We Used to Trade Favors
by Jensine70
Summary: During law school, Veronica is also working part-time for a law firm as a P.I. Trying to locate a missing witness, she needs the help of someone willing to do her a favor and back her up – preferably a guy who can handle himself in a fight at a biker bar. Both single, haven't seen each other in 8 years, but she & Weevil fall right back into their usual banter and flirting. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

This fic begins one year before the 10-year high school reunion. I've kept certain details from the movie and discarded others.

Veronica is in New York, attending law school, dated Piz again for a while but it didn't work out.

Weevil has his own shop and got married, but is recently divorced. His daughter is 2 years old.

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

 _Veronica POV_

A long time ago … we used to trade favors.

It had been nine years since graduation. Eight years since I left Neptune. Tried to put my past behind me.

I kept in touch with my dad, of course. Mac and Wallace, too. But no one else. And I didn't go back to visit.

Going to law school in New York City had become my excuse – too busy, too far to travel. But I could have made the time if I wanted to.

When I left Neptune, I wasn't just leaving behind the people and experiences, but also the way I chose to live my life. I had made a conscious decision to stop working cases.

After my first year of law school, it became apparent that I needed some income to balance the outflow of cash, I heard a couple classmates talking about the fact that they had become paralegals, worked in law firms before attending law school, and one of them even continued to work part-time on top of her demanding coursework. It occurred to me that larger firms employ private investigators. And it didn't take long before I got sucked back in.

I had been working part-time during my second year of law school, but the firm wanted me full-time for the summer. They were working on a big case and had been having trouble tracking down a key witness. They wanted me to focus on that while their primary investigator worked on other things.

It seemed unlikely that the witness had gone very far, but even looking in the five boroughs would be like searching for a needle in a haystack. Our client clearly knew the witness, but she wasn't giving us much info. She did let a few things drop in conversation – things other people might not notice. However as a trained investigator, I not only noticed, I began to connect the dots. She mentioned something about northern New Jersey, and it sounded like he had a couple of jobs where he must have been paid under the table. It seemed logical that he would go back to that area, where he could work and live under the radar. Not much to go on, but I started to narrow my search to a few counties. Other than that, the only lead that seemed promising was that the guy frequented biker bars.

The guy obviously didn't want to be found. I certainly didn't want to spook him by going around asking questions as a P.I. After exhausting all my usual methods, I decided my best bet was to go to his hometown – use another name, get a job and an apartment, eat in local restaurants, go to the bars.

After I ran my plan past the lawyer handling the case, he was uncomfortable with me going by myself. He asked if I had any friends who would blend in, someone who would be willing to do me a favor and back me up – preferably a guy who can handle himself in a bar fight.

I only knew one person who fit that description. Problem was: I hadn't spoken to him in eight years.

It was easy enough to do a background check and find his current contact info. However, I was surprised by some of what I found.

He was now a business owner. He had gotten married but was now divorced. He had a two-year-old daughter. If the photo on his shop's website was current, he had only gotten hotter since I'd last seen him.

Although I had been able to find his cellphone number, I opted to call his work number. It rang twice before someone answered. I asked if he was available, and I was put on hold.

A couple minutes later, a familiar voice asked, "How can I help you?"

My reply was simple: "I need a favor."

There was a moment of silence. I wondered if the call had been cut off or if he had hung up.

Then, I heard him chuckle. "V? Is this a joke?"

"Not a joke."

"Are you in town?"

"No."

"Last I heard, you were in New York."

"You heard right."

"Well, I'm curious enough to ask … what's the favor?"

"I'm working on a case. Trying to find a guy that hangs out in some rough places."

"And you need someone to go with you? You don't have any friends there who can help you out?"

"Not anyone with tattoos who looks good in leather and rides a motorcycle."

"You know I hate to be typecast." He paused, probably waiting to see if I would volunteer anything else. "You're serious about this?"

"Yeah, I am. I'm hoping it would only take a week to check out the locations on my shortlist. Any chance you can take a week off?"

"You called me at work and I'm betting you did your homework before calling. So you know I own the place."

"Yes. I don't know if I can get you paid for the time, but I'm sure I can get all your expenses covered. The only thing it will cost you is the time away."

He didn't respond right away. When he did, he said, "Give me your number. Need to check on a few things. I'll call you back. Might take a couple hours."

I kept myself busy while I waited for his call. I made a list of things I would need to do before he arrived. I was assuming that he would come. I couldn't think of a time he had refused to help me. In fact, he had on multiple occasions dropped what he was doing to do me a favor – like giving me a ride when I found myself unexpectedly in need of one. Even while he was working at Hearst – trying to live life on the straight and narrow, after plea bargaining down to assault – he was willing to help me in ways that could have gotten him sent back to Chino. Not once, but twice. Although I had a change of heart at the last minute, I had asked him to cube Madison's car after finding out that she had slept with Logan. And Eli had offered his unconditional assistance after the video of me with Piz went public.

Even after all these years, I was almost certain that he would do this favor for me. This gigantic favor. Asking someone to fly across the country to help you after years without contact, that was no small thing. There weren't many people I would feel comfortable asking for this big of a favor.

Now that I thought about how short that list of people was, I couldn't help but wonder why I hadn't kept in contact with him. He was one of the few people that I trusted with my life.

After redirecting my thoughts back to my to-do list, I started to chip away at those items. I sent an email to one of the partners of the law firm – he had mentioned he had a motorcycle I could borrow. Then, I checked that area of New Jersey for apartments and employment that would fit what I was looking for. I started packing, which was a bit of a challenge since I wasn't sure how long we would be gone. I also gathered materials I would need to make our fake IDs.

I had called him just after 9:00 a.m. his time, assuming he would be at work by then. He called back about two hours later from his cell phone. He was packing while we talked.

"How soon can you leave?" I asked him.

"Today. Now."

"Really? I'll book your flight while you're driving to the airport. Call me when you get there and I'll give you the info. Or you could text me your email address."

"Will do."

"Weevil …"

"Yeah, V?"

"Thanks for doing this."

"We were always owing each other favors."

"But … a call like this … after eight years of radio silence?"

He didn't respond right away. When he did, his tone was serious and gentle, heavy and light at the same time. "I'm just glad to hear from you." He paused before adding, "And I'm looking forward to seeing you."

A smile slowly spread across my face, as I said, "Me, too."

* * *

A/N:

I have a rough outline, but I gotta be honest … I have no idea when I will get back to this (right now, most of my attention is on my 5-part series), but I promise that I will finish this.

There will be plenty of flirting and banter. And a high level of "will they or won't they." Oh, and they'll find the missing witness along the way.

In the meantime, if you haven't read my other VMars fics, please check them out: a WeeVer series that will be five parts [ **Stall** (Part 1), **Process** (Part 2), and coming soon **Commence** (Part 3)] two WeeVer one-shots ( **Just One Night** and **Beyond a Shadow** ), a Weevil/OC one-shot ( **Making Friends and Influencing New Principals** ), and an M-rated WeeVer fic set pre-Season1 ( **Pleasure Principle** ).

Thanks for reading! Until next time …

~Jen

27 March 2018


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

Finally, after almost a year and a half … Chapter 2.

I decided to add a few paragraphs to Chapter 1, just to give more detail between the two phone calls. You might want to click back and read that. Nothing else changed.

Reminder … I have kept most of canon up to one year before the movie. Exceptions: Veronica and Piz broke up sooner, and Weevil is divorced.

[

Part of the reason that it took so long for me to get back to this fic is that I really did want to write a more detailed case/mystery. But with the number of projects on my desk, the only way this fic was ever going to happen was if I let go of my expectations. So don't spend too much time trying to figure out the details of the case – I certainly didn't. ;) It's just an excuse to get them together.

[

The entire fic occurs in the span of 16 days. Mid to late June. The summer before her last year of law school, which is one year before the reunion that occurs in the movie. [This is where the timeline gets odd because although the movie was released in 2014, the Class of 2006 would have had their 10-year reunion in 2016. So I view this fic as occurring in 2015.]

 **Chapter 2 picks up immediately after Chapter 1.**

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

 **Saturday 13 June 2015**

When I ended the call, I put my phone down on my desk and just stared at it. I couldn't believe he had agreed to do this for me. I mean, in a way, I had expected him to. But this is crazy right? Asking him to fly across the country – that was pretty crazy. Him agreeing to do it – that's gotta be nearly certifiable.

And the tone in his voice. At the end. What he said.

And the way I reacted to it. Not just my verbal reply. But my internal response.

Did he mean what I thought he meant? What I might want him to mean?

 _Good grief, Veronica. Get a grip on yourself. Just an old friend doing you a favor. Just flirting the way he always did. Doesn't mean anything._

 _Yeah … just keep telling yourself that, girl._

I opened my laptop and began searching for the next non-stop flight to NYC. As soon as I had it booked, I forwarded the flight information to the email address he had given me.

He texted to let me know he had gotten my email and that he was at the gate waiting for the flight.

[

While I waited for him to arrive, I worked on the items on the list I had made earlier. I finished packing – clothes and accessories that fit the role I would be playing, toiletries, my laptop and tablet, charging cords for all devices, and a few other miscellaneous items. I would not, however, be taking any hard copies of the documents in the case files. If anyone searched the place we'd be staying, I didn't want them finding anything.

I called about a few apartments. On the third try, I found what I was looking for. I made an appointment to look at it the next day.

After that, I sent an update email to David Gellar, the partner overseeing the case. I told him that Eli was on his way, that I had a lead on an apartment in the small town where I hoped to find the witness, that we would go check out the apartment tomorrow and look for jobs, adding that hopefully we would make a few "friends" who could help us identify the witness. Minutes after I hit send, I had a reply from Mr. Gellar saying that he wanted to meet with us in his office tomorrow morning – 8 a.m. on a Sunday, that's how important this case was to him.

Then, onto the last major item on my list: putting the finishing touches on our fake IDs. I decided to keep our initials the same. VM and EN. Victoria Martin and Emilio Núñez. I was accustomed to using other personas while working cases, but I was a bit concerned that Eli might slip up and call me by the wrong name. Years ago, he had been in the habit of calling me V, so using a name with the same first initial should help avoid problems while undercover.

After checking off the last item on my list, I made myself dinner, took care of paying any bills due in the next few weeks (just in case this took longer than I expected), did a little cleaning and made sure that I had clean sheets and towels for my house guest.

As I was doing all of that, I realized how strange it would be to share a living space with someone again. I had spent a lot of my time at Piz's apartment when we were dating. So much in fact, that I was about to move in with him right before we broke up. Living with someone for a short period of time should not be too difficult, but I had no idea what kind of roomie Eli would be.

About two hours before his flight was scheduled to arrive, I left for the airport. I had told him that I would meet him there – that way we would have a chance to talk on the way to my apartment. There was a lot of information that I needed to give him.

[

Although I would have loved to have met him at the gate, I did not want to spend the money on a ticket just so I could get past security. While waiting, I had a cup of coffee and got caught up on news. He sent me a text as soon as they landed – actually a few minutes ahead of schedule.

After throwing away my trash, I found a spot to wait for him. I continued reading on my phone, looking up every once in a while. One time when I looked up and scanned the crowd, I was about to look back down. Then, I did a double-take.

There was a seriously hot man walking toward me with a huge grin on his face.

I greeted Eli with a hug – thinking to myself that he looked and smelled delicious.

When I stepped back from him, he shook his head and said, "You should only wear this. Ever."

Smacking his arm, I said, "Stop." I had thrown on skinny jeans and a black wrap top this morning. Nothing that amazing. Though I did have to admit that the top – paired with the right bra – really showed off my cleavage.

Steering him toward a grouping of chairs, I began to give him info pertinent to the case.

He interrupted me. "Wouldn't you rather wait until we get back to your place to do this?"

"Actually, no. You'll understand in a couple minutes." As I continued to explain, it became clearer to him. "The witness is probably not using his real name – or at least, not the name we know him by. It shouldn't be too hard to narrow down the number of guys who recently moved back to this particular small town, but in order to confirm we've got the right guy, we need to do something to draw him out. I think the best way to do that is to provoke his protective nature. He doesn't like to see guys being controlling and possessive with their girlfriends or wives." I was taking my time getting to the point, and he knew it.

"Spit it out, V." He gave me a semi-annoyed look and before I could respond, he asked, "You want me to play your asshole boyfriend? Or … are we supposed to be married?"

"Not married. Here's what I came up with: My abusive husband is a cop and therefore it was not easy to get away from him. If the landlord or an employer needs an explanation why we want to do things in cash and not leave a paper trail, that will be our story. And you … are an old high school friend who helped me out and now—"

"We're together."

"Yeah. So although you will appear possessive and controlling to someone like him, you're really just being protective – overly protective. And our staged 'disagreements' should make him concerned enough to feel like he needs to pull me aside and talk to me. Hopefully, by then, I can confirm we've got the right guy … and then, I'll tell him why I've been looking for him."

"But in the meantime, he needs to believe that we're together … Any particular reason you didn't mention this on the phone?"

"I hadn't worked the whole thing out yet. And honestly, I didn't think it would bother you … as much as it apparently does."

"You know I never liked guys who treat women like shit. Now you want me to act like that?!"

" _Act_ being the operative word here. And it's for a good cause." He indicated that he wanted to hear an explanation, so I continued. "He helped a woman get away from her abusive husband, who happened to be a very powerful, influential man. Without this witness's testimony, that woman might end up going to prison for killing her husband."

"I assume it was self-defense."

"You'd think that. But the lawyer on the case thinks – and I tend to agree with him – that she didn't do it. That she's protecting someone."

"Your witness?"

"No, we're pretty sure someone else was there."

"Why hasn't he come forward already? If he's so protective of her."

"He probably doesn't realize that she is in need of his help again. Charges haven't been filed yet. But she's pretty much the only one under investigation. So it's just a matter of time. If that happens … and the witness doesn't come forward … well, the evidence is pretty damning."

"Let me get this straight … I have to treat one woman like shit to help protect another woman?"

"That's about the size of it."

"You do realize how stupid this sounds, right?"

"If you've got a better idea, I'm all ears." He didn't respond so I continued. "I can't just show up in this town asking people if they've seen him. He'll run before I have a chance to talk to him. I've got to give him a reason to want to talk to me."

"And then, you'll tell him that you lied to him … and he'll _really_ trust you after that."

"Well, when I come clean with him about the reason for my visit, you'll be blocking his exit. That should give me some time to persuade him."

He looked like he almost wanted to laugh, but he wouldn't meet my gaze.

"Eli. I'm sorry. I honestly didn't mean to mislead you."

He finally looked at me again. "When does this act start?"

"Full-on controlling asshole? Tomorrow. The partner at the law firm who is overseeing the case – and the one loaning us his bike – wants to meet with us first thing in the morning. You'll have to sign a non-disclosure agreement. And he'll want us to do a little role-playing while we're there … to be sure we're believable. Then we'll go over to Jersey and take a look at an apartment. Hopefully, there will be a couple 'help wanted' signs and at least one of us can find a job."

"So when we show up in that town tomorrow, our act has to be solid. How exactly are we gonna do that, V?"

"That, my friend, is why I pulled you over in this corner to chat. Now that we have all that out of the way, we're gonna play boyfriend and girlfriend on the way back to my apartment. We won't worry about the bickering and controlling parts of the equation just yet."

He reaches over and places a hand on my thigh. "Just get comfortable with one another?"

Words would not form in my mouth. All I could manage was: "Mm-hmm."

Taking his phone out of his pocket, he said, "Before we head out, I'm gonna call and let my Aunt Lucia know I got here safely."

He stood and took a few steps away to make the call. I couldn't help but watch his mannerisms while he was on the phone; he had changed so much since I had seen him last.

When he walked back over, I said, "So you think you can get into this bad boy character … now that you've cleaned up your life."

With a smirk and a chin lift, he said, "Like riding a bike, V."

He put his messenger bag on one shoulder and grabbed his suitcase handle with that hand. Then, he reached toward me with the other. "May I escort you home, Miss Mars?"

Well-mannered Eli could be incredibly charming. He even leaned in to kiss my cheek after I had slipped my hand into his.

We chatted as we made our way out of the airport. Interaction in public was a great way to get used to being physically close to one another. I mean, I had ridden on the back of his bike a few times, and I can recall him giving me a hug after I helped prove his innocence that one time. But it's not like that was a common occurrence for us.

It would take a little while for me to become accustomed to having his hands on me. He wasn't being forceful – yet. Not like he would need to be. But he seemed to be laying claim to my body parts, one by one. I guess I'd say that he was being gently possessive.

[

When we got back to my apartment, he asked, "Now what?"

"I thought we might go out for a little while, hit a bar or two. A little more practice before tomorrow."

Before we left, I changed clothes. I put on the shortest skirt I could find in my closet.

When I walked out of the bathroom, Eli said, "Damn, girl. You tryin' to give me a heart attack?"

With one hand on his chest, I shoved him down onto a chair. "No. But you need to get used to seeing men react to me looking like this. And I need to get used to you touching me when I'm wearing things like this."

Without missing a beat, he grabbed me and pulled me into his lap so that I was straddling him.

"You mean, like this?"

"Mm-hmm."

With a thumb and finger on my jaw, he held my face inches from his, as he demanded, "Be a good girl and give me your mouth."

A nervous laugh bubbled up from inside me. I knew he was being serious – or at least playing at being serious. But that was not the kind of thing I was used to hearing from guys I'd dated. So it struck me as funny.

He gripped my jaw just a bit tighter as he said, "Nothing funny about it, woman. That mouth is mine and you will give it to me when I want it. Whenever I want it."

The tone he used was somewhere in the vicinity of old Weevil, but a few steps beyond what I remembered, a few shades darker than I had ever seen him.

When I made no move to kiss him, he softened his hold on me. "V, you're gonna have to get used to me talking to you like that. And if you don't … shall we say … comply, then I will need to get more demanding, handle you more rough. Guys like that feel the need to save face if their women don't obey them in public."

"I do know that, but it's just so strange – stranger than I thought it would be – to hear those things coming from your mouth."

"Imagine how strange it is for me to say them. To you, of all people."

[

We left my apartment about fifteen minutes later. On our way down the sidewalk, he had his arm around me possessively. And he scowled at any guy who dared to look at my legs.

There was a bar a few blocks away that – according to their website – had a few pool tables. So we went there. Nothing like a girlfriend in a short skirt leaning over a pool table to make possessive boyfriend lose his mind.

When we got inside, we walked up to the bar. I started to order, but Eli put a hand on my arm, indicating that he would handle it. He ordered two beers for us. The bartender asked for ID, and we showed him our new fake driver's licenses. It was a good chance to test them out and make sure they passed inspection – which, of course, they did.

We took our bottles of beer and walked over to an open table. While Eli was putting the balls in the rack, I found us a couple of decent cues. And by decent, I mean that they weren't as warped as the other cues.

As I handed him one of the sticks, he whispered in my ear, "I want you to play your best game. I'll miss a few when I need to. Wanna make sure you win."

"Okay … why?"

"You, darling, are going to make your boyfriend look bad. And he's not going to like that … any more than he likes the fact that every guy in this place is going to be looking at your ass every time you take a shot." Handing me the cue ball, he said, "You can break. I'll just be back here … standing behind you … staring at that fine ass of yours."

We had fun that night. A lot of fun. Maybe a little too much fun, pretending to be other people.

He was able to forget for a little while that he was a divorced father of a toddler. And I was able to pretend I was something other than a single, workaholic law student.

And while we were pretending to be other people, we flirted and bantered … I'd say "like we used to" but this was way more intense than it used to be. I was gonna have to figure out how to contain this or I wouldn't be able to concentrate on the case. That could be dangerous for several reasons. Not the least of which was that lack of concentration could get us hurt – or killed, if we messed with the wrong person.

We were at the bar for a couple hours. During that time, several guys did indeed check me out. A few even flirted with me when Eli left my side for any length of time (which gave him the opportunity to play the role he had flown across the country to play).

It wasn't even midnight yet when we got back to my apartment. I changed into a tshirt and pajama pants before putting the sheets on the couch. (I had spent enough time tonight leaning over in that miniskirt.) He thanked me and placed a kiss on my cheek.

After setting my alarm, I climbed into bed and was asleep within minutes.

[

[

 **Sunday 14 June 2015**

I woke up just before 6:00 a.m., which was when my alarm was set to go off. I went out to the kitchen to make coffee, but Eli had already made it.

Over breakfast, we talked a bit about the missing years – the years since we had seen one another. But we were both holding back. And although I knew that, I wasn't sure why exactly.

We took turns in the bathroom and less than an hour after I had gotten up, we were out the door for our 8 a.m. meeting with David Gellar.

Arriving at the office early gave me the opportunity to take care of a few things since I would be out of the office for several days. I needed to file a couple of things and drop some things off on someone's desk.

Other than us, the office was empty. Good thing too, because Eli in jeans and a leather jacket would definitely attract attention from the women who worked here.

As expected, during the meeting, Mr. Gellar asked us to demonstrate the personas we planned to use during the investigation. At one point during our roleplay, I walked past Eli and he grabbed my wrist, pulling me back to him. Then, he took my chin between his thumb and forefinger the way he had the night before. When he demanded "Give me your mouth, babe," Mr. Gellar gasped in shock. When we ended the scene, he admitted that he wasn't sure what I would do at that moment – he knew that I wouldn't normally let a man talk to me that way.

He must have been satisfied with what he saw because he turned over the keys to his bike to Eli and told us to let him know if we needed anything else. He made sure that we had a few contacts in our burner phones. And told us not to take our own phones with us. He gave me a laptop to take with me – and instructed me to only put the necessary files on it. We had previously set up gmail addresses that were in no way connected to our names or the law firm.

[

We rode the bike to the small town in North Jersey where I strongly suspected the witness was hiding out. If he wasn't there, not only was this a waste of everyone's time and money, but I wasn't sure where else to look. Hopefully, my hunch was right.

We got to the diner in West Lawn just before the lunch rush. Taking our time, we were able to observe several regulars and get a feel for the residents of the town. Then, we went to locate the apartment we would be looking at. We arrived before our 1 p.m. appointment. It was an old motel that had been converted into apartments. It would be kind to refer to it as rundown. Before the landlord showed up, we had already spent some time looking at the front and back of the building, as well as looking through the windows of the empty unit. The back door of each apartment opened out onto a parking area just off an alley.

Once the guy arrived, we looked at the inside. There was no way in hell that I would want to live there under normal circumstances, but it would serve our purposes. In fact, it was perfect. We paid a cash deposit, plus first and last months' rent. There was no lease involved – the agreement was done on a handshake and was a month to month commitment. But we wouldn't be needing it that long.

When we finished there, we drove around town for a while looking for places that were hiring. The only place that had a 'help wanted' sign was the diner. We went back in for an early dinner so I could ask about the waitress job. I was hired on the spot and then put through a mini training while Eli ate a piece of apple pie for dessert.

During the "interview" process, the owner asked me to fill out some paperwork while we were in her office. I explained the backstory I had developed – my abusive ex, the cop – and asked if there was any way she could hire me without creating a paper trail. She must have known some horrible men in her lifetime because she immediately agreed to hire me without checking any references and didn't even make me fill out the application form after she heard my story.

So far, so good.

Throughout the day, Eli kept things lowkey – just played the attentive, mildly protective boyfriend. There would be plenty of time to amp that up over the next week.

[

After dinner, we drove back into Manhattan. I enjoyed the ride. It reminded me of high school. Except that being on his bike now felt more intimate than it had felt back then.

We got back to my apartment around 8 p.m. I didn't have much to do. I had already packed. I did need to double-check that I had all the documents and contact info that I would need on the devices I would be taking with me.

Eli had mentioned that he planned to FaceTime with his daughter Valentina. I decided that I would take a shower, mostly to give him some privacy.

It was around 9 p.m. when he got off the phone. He walked back to my bedroom to see if there was anything I needed to tell him, now that he was finished with the call.

"You must miss her," I said, as I sat on my bed combing through my wet hair.

"It helps that she's with family."

I wasn't sure what he meant by that. "I assumed she was with her mom."

"No. She's with my aunt, who runs a daycare center near my shop. Valentina spends most days there. A lot of the kids there are family. With me away, it made sense for her to spend nights with Aunt Lucia." As he talked, he sat down on the edge of the bed.

I asked him questions to keep him talking. Eventually, I asked if he had custody of Valentina. He told me that Jade had had a drug problem years before they met. She had gotten clean, but her dad got sick a few months after Valentina was born, and the stress triggered a relapse. She tried rehab but left before she had completed the program. When he got full custody, she spiraled, and things got much worse. The judge recently took away her visitation rights.

At some point while he was answering my questions, he had made himself comfortable on my bed – leaning his back against the headboard, his legs stretched out in front of him.

"I'm so sorry. That you had to go through that. That Valentina had to go through that."

I leaned into his side and gave him a hug with one arm. As I moved to roll away from him, he wrapped his arms around me, holding me to his chest.

Then, he started to ask me questions about my mom. I told him the parts of my family history that weren't public knowledge and cleared up which rumors were true and which ones were false.

We talked for quite a while. Before I knew it, I was falling asleep. As I began to drift off, I felt him kiss the top of my head.

[

[

 **Monday 15 June 2015**

I woke earlier than I would have liked. But my alarm was insistent.

As I reached for my cellphone to hit snooze, I heard a groan behind me as an arm held me in place – my back to his chest. That's when I remembered that Eli and I had fallen asleep in my bed after talking about our common experience with family members dealing with addiction.

If you would have told me in high school that Weevil and I would have a heart-to-heart talk in my bed, I'd have said you were crazy. If you'd have told me that we would wake up spooning, I would have laughed at the absurdity.

When the second alarm went off, we both got up. We didn't talk about the fact that we had slept together – slept next to one another. As we got ready to leave, he seemed to keep finding opportunities to touch me – a hand on my back or arm, taking something from my hand, leaning over me when I was sitting at the table eating breakfast. His affectionate familiarity bothered me for some reason.

On the way to New Jersey, I realized why. I was uncomfortable with how comfortable it felt being close to him.

[

After we had loaded our bags and a couple boxes into a cab, Eli gave me a kiss on the cheek before closing my door. He followed the cab on the borrowed motorcycle.

When we got to the apartment, he began carrying our items inside as I paid for the cab. It seemed like such a waste of money. I had suggested that I could ask a friend to transport me and our things, but Mr. Gellar had insisted we use a cab, which would make it more difficult for anyone to connect the dots.

As we were unpacking and getting settled, Eli's displays of affection continued.

I decided I would need to establish some rules, some boundaries. "No roleplaying in the apartment. No sharing the bed – one of us will take the couch. We can alternate nights if you want."

"I get it." He paused before continuing, "I didn't mean to … it's just … I forgot how nice it was to fall asleep with someone. And wake up with someone." He gave me a sad smile. "And how good a hug feels."

I didn't reply to what he had said. I just continued my thought, "Here in the apartment, it's us – Veronica and Eli. Out there, it's Victoria and Emilio."

He nodded in agreement.

"I think we should probably get used to calling each other pet names like baby … or just first initials V and E, that way we are less likely to slip up in public. Also, if we need to have a real conversation about the case or impending danger, we could use full names Victoria and Emilio as code words to signal that we need to find a way to get time alone."

Not long after that semi-awkward conversation, I left for my first day of work at the diner. They had told me to show up at 10:30 a.m., so I'd be ready to go before the lunch rush.

I worked a short shift that day. And as busy as I was, my mind kept wandering to the events of the past 48 hours. And the man who was waiting for me back at "our apartment."

* * *

A/N:

For those of you who have been waiting for almost a year and a half for me to get back to this fic: I hope it's worth the wait.

My plan is to post the remaining chapters of this fic over the next two months ... as well as some short fics from my "ideas folder." One of those went up at the same time as this chapter.

Until next time …

~Jen

19 August 2019


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

Thanks for the reviews and new follows.

 **Chapter 3 begins the same day.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

 **Monday 15 June 2015**

My first day of work at the diner was fairly uneventful. As I waited on people – a collection of stock characters that you would expect in a local eatery – I had a few flashbacks to working at Java the Hut. I repeatedly thanked God that this gig was temporary.

Just as the dinner crowd was thinning out, Eli came in the front door. He sat down at the counter and another waitress handed him a menu as she poured him a glass of water. I heard him ask her if I could wait on him. She shrugged as she put her tablet back in her apron.

As she walked back to the kitchen, she said to me, "Biker at the counter requested you."

"That would be my boyfriend."

"Really? You got good taste, girl. He's a cutie."

I could not disagree with her assessment.

In between my few remaining customers, I waited on Eli. He ordered that day's special – meatloaf and mashed potatoes – and waited patiently for my shift to end. He drank cup after cup of decaf. And stared at me over the rim of the mug – crooked smile on his face, occasionally winking at me flirtatiously.

After I clocked out, he took my hand and walked me back to the apartment. In the time it took for us to get home, he told me about his day. He had spent a couple hours working on the borrowed motorcycle. While he was doing that in the parking area off the alley behind the apartment, one of the neighbors came over to introduce himself – a guy named Smitty.

"He works at the auto body shop on the other side of town. I kept working while we were talking. Apparently he liked what he saw. Offered to talk to his boss about getting me a job."

"That was mighty neighborly of him."

"Sure was. Said he'd try to let me know something in the next day or two."

When we got back to the apartment, I took a shower to wash off the smell of grease that clung to me. Eli told me that he would take the couch for the night, adding that we could figure out a rotating schedule later.

As I was getting ready for bed, I heard him talking. I couldn't make out the words, but his tone of voice made me smile. I assumed he was on the phone with his daughter.

[

[

 **Tuesday 16 June 2015**

The next day during my shift at the diner, I got a text from Eli. The neighbor had dropped by again, saying Eli should come by the shop to meet the owner. An hour later, I got another text. The owner had taken a liking to him, asked him to stick around for a few hours as a trial. If he liked Eli's work, then he'd give him a job.

He came to the diner again for a late dinner. As I filled his coffee cup, he told me the good news: he would start his new job in the morning.

"When you're done here, wanna go get a drink to celebrate?"

What he really meant to ask was: Are we checking out one of the bars in town tonight? The answer was yes; we needed to find the witness.

I tilted my head and popped one hip. "You buyin'?"

"That depends, babe. You gonna put out later?"

I laughed so loud that several people turned to look at us. Flirting with Eli had always been fun, but as we played these roles, we found a whole new level of verbal foreplay.

After work, we stopped at the apartment long enough to get cleaned up and change clothes. Then, we visited one of the bars on my list, looking for anyone who was new to town. No luck. But we had a couple of beers and played a few games of pool. And flirted. A lot.

"Babe, let me help you with that shot," Eli said as he leaned into my back and used his hands to adjust the angle.

"Thanks, but I think I got this."

As he whispered in my ear, shivers ran down my spine. "I'd rather stay here … you've got a powerful stroke."

After the ball dropped into the pocket, I turned around to face him. "I win again."

"I got your trophy right here, babe."

"I really am having a lucky night, aren't I?"

"I'm the one who's gettin' lucky tonight."

"You think so, huh?"

His hand came up to grab my chin. "Give me that smart mouth of yours, babe."

As my lips made contact with his, he put a hand firmly on the back of my head. At first, he just allowed my lips to dance with his. Then, he took charge. I couldn't remember the last time I had been kissed like that. Even though the kiss crossed an invisible line into a more deeply passionate kiss than we had yet shared, it still did not involve tongue.

When he broke the kiss, he held my head so that we were nose to nose. As he looked in my eyes, he said in a hushed tone, "I should get you home to bed."

I just nodded, not trusting my voice.

After he paid our tab, we left the bar, walking across the parking lot to the bike. I climbed on, wrapped my arms around him, and leaned against his back. The ride to the apartment only took a few minutes, but it was long enough for my mind to replay the things we had said to one another over the course of the night.

It was all just an act. Right?

Back at the apartment, I climbed into bed, wishing I weren't sleeping alone. My body was buzzing from the unresolved sexual tension. All this flirting and pretending to be a couple was revving my engine, and there was no relief in sight.

[

[

 **Wednesday 17 June 2015**

The next morning, I got up and headed for the bathroom. Just as my hand hit the doorknob, the door opened. And I was face to face with Eli – who was wearing only a towel.

He simply said, "Good morning."

I was stunned speechless.

Finally, he said, "I'll be happy to let you in here, if you'll let me through the doorway."

Shaking the fog from my head, I said, "Yeah, of course." And I stepped aside.

The image of his shirtless torso kept popping into my mind, distracting me while I was getting ready. In the shower, as my soapy hands ran over my body. In the bedroom, as I slipped on my uniform and the fabric brushed against my skin.

When I got out to the kitchen, Eli was leaning over the table writing something.

He lifted his head when he heard me. "I've gotta get to work. I was just leaving you a note. Text me later to tell me your plan for tonight."

The ordinariness of this domestic moment rattled me. But I managed to find words to respond. "I'll do that."

And then Eli was gone. Off to his first full day at his new job. And I was left to process – yet again – how strange it was to be playing house with him.

[

That morning at work, I had my hands full with a handsy customer. Every time I went past his table, he smacked my ass. In an attempt to stay employed, I tried to keep my reaction professional. But the guy kept at it – grabbing me, hitting on me with the worst one-liners I'd ever heard.

Then, he hit me with this zinger: "Do you know how much damage we could do to each other in an hour?"

Before I could control my tongue, this response flew out of my mouth: "It's kind of a revolting thought, actually."

He looked stunned. I almost felt bad for the guy. Almost.

But after that, he didn't say anything else to me.

After the lunch crowd cleared out, my boss pulled me aside to compliment me on the way I handled the guy. I was beyond surprised; I was relieved. I thought I was about to be reprimanded.

"My brother owns a bar in town. He's been looking for a new waitress. Someone who can handle herself with tough customers." When I didn't respond, she continued, "I know you were hoping for more hours than I can give you … so I thought you might be interested in another part-time job."

"I'll think about it. Thanks."

[

After work, we went to check out the next bar on the list. This establishment was trying really hard to qualify for the label of "club." There was a dance floor. No DJ, but it seemed that the head bartender was in control of the playlist from his position behind the bar. He had decent taste in music. So tonight, Eli and I did more dancing than playing pool.

It was crazy the amount of chemistry we had. The intensity was off the charts. Had it been that strong in high school? Surely I would have noticed.

Back at the apartment, I told him he should take the bed that night. I used the excuse that I wanted to stay up for a while to do some research. In truth, it was just that I anticipated having difficulty falling asleep. And I didn't want to stare at the ceiling above the bed. I'd rather use the time productively. Or at least attempt to distract myself.

I still ended up staring at the ceiling for hours.

[

[

 **Thursday 18 June 2015**

I awoke to the smell of coffee. When I opened my eyes, I found that Eli was holding a mug about two inches from my nose.

"Good morning, sunshine."

"Morning," I said groggily.

"Thought you could use some caffeine. Tried to wake you up a while ago. You must have been up late."

"Yeah. Got some research done. Mostly just thinking through things."

"Trying to work out the case?"

Well, yeah. But, no. "Figuring out our next steps."

[

It was an ordinary day at the diner. I was getting to know the regulars – who came in at which mealtime, who came in more than once a day, who worked together, who were friends, and so on.

At lunchtime, I was waiting on a table of guys. They were flirting with me a bit, nothing too much. I had just finished taking their orders when I felt someone walk up behind me and wrap an arm around my waist. Before I could register the fact that it was Eli behind me, I noticed that one of the guys reacted to the fact that someone had grabbed me. He seemed to be on alert, in case I needed defending. My mind made note of that, in case it would be useful later.

"Hey, babe. Miss me?" Eli said loudly enough to be heard by the table of guys.

I'm sure I blushed as I gave my customers an apologetic look. Turning around, I said, "Yes, of course, I missed you. But I'm working, so please … behave yourself."

With a chin lift, he replied, "Yeah, okay."

"You stayin' for lunch?"

"Just grabbing food. Need to stop at the apartment to take care of a few things before I head back to work."

"Have a seat at the counter. I'll be over in a minute to get your order."

With a quick kiss on my cheek, he said, "Thanks, babe," and turned toward the counter. But not before he stared down the guys at the table.

After Eli had left with his food, I was filling drinks for the table full of guys.

"That guy who was in here … he your boyfriend?"

"Yeah." I continued filling glasses.

"He just started working at the shop with us."

"So you just moved here?" another asked.

"Yeah."

"Not very chatty, are you?"

I smiled and simply said, "No."

The one who had been watching me carefully smiled and let out a laugh. I assumed that my one-syllable answers amused him.

When they were leaving, I watched as they each left a tip. Then, the "observer" of the group made his way over to me.

Reading my nametag, he said, "Victoria, I wanted to introduce myself. I'm Smitty. I—"

"You're the neighbor who helped Emilio get the job." He nodded at my comment and I said, "Thank you so much for that. He thought it would take longer to find work."

"He's a good mechanic." Smitty paused. "He didn't say anything about you … about having a girlfriend."

"He's kind of a private person."

"Like you?"

"Yeah."

"Also, seems kind of … possessive. The way he came in and marked his territory … right in front of us."

I tried to play it off in a way that could be interpreted any way he wanted. I shrugged and said, "He likes to make sure people know …"

"That you're taken? Message received." He studied my eyes – for what, I wasn't sure. "Anyway, just wanted to introduce myself. See you 'round."

[

When I had a minute, I texted Eli to ask: _What was that scene at the diner about?_

He replied: _Heard some customers and employees at the shop talking about the hot new waitress at the diner._

 _Really?! What does she look like? Tall, brunette?_

 _Funny, V. Just thought they should know the new waitress has a boyfriend._

[

After work, we stopped at "home" to change clothes. Before heading out to another bar, I did a little research on Smitty. He had seemed awfully concerned about Eli's possessive display of affection. It made me wonder if he could be our guy. I made the assumption that his last name was Smith. Eli said that he thought he heard one of the guys call him Jay and that there was a J. Smith on the schedule at the shop. Eli added that it sounded like he had recently moved back to the area.

It was seeming more likely that he was the needle we were looking for in this haystack. However, nothing turned up in my search. It was like the guy didn't exist.

I decided to try variations on the name Smith – maybe when he chose to go by Smith, he hadn't strayed too far from his real name. At least that's what I hoped.

Sometimes, wishin' and hopin' pays off. There was a John Schmidt who had gone to the local high school and would be the same age as our "Smitty." And although our client had not wanted to get the witness involved, she had referred to him at one point as "Johnny."

Could it really be that simple? Had John "Johnny" Schmidt started going by Jay "Smitty" Smith?

[

Finally, we left to visit the next bar on the list, Sam's – which happened to be the one with an opening for a waitress.

When we walked in, I immediately noticed that Smitty was sitting at the bar with a few of the guys who worked at the auto body shop. We stepped up to the bar to order and a few of the guys said hello to us.

Smitty made a point of saying, "Hello again, Victoria."

"Hey there, Smitty."

Eli narrowed his eyes as he asked me, "You two met?"

I did my best to look uncomfortable, like I'd done something wrong.

Smitty picked up on the vibe, answering for me, "I introduced myself at the diner after you left. Told her we were neighbors."

Eli nodded, looking back and forth between the two of us. Then, he smacked me on the ass and told me to go get a table and pick out cue sticks while he got our drinks.

I did as I was told. And gave silent thanks that Eli was so good reading situations and playing roles. As I checked out the available pool tables, I remembered the time he had kept Leo busy while I got the recordings out of evidence at the Neptune Sheriff's Department. He could improvise like a pro.

Glancing over at the bar, I noticed that he was still talking with the guys. I also noticed that Smitty kept stealing glances over at me.

Later, I went up to the bar to order our second round. While I was there, I traded quips with a few men – well, they hit on me and I shut them down.

At one point in the evening, Eli had stepped away from the pool table to use the restroom. As if on cue, Smitty walked over with an older guy at his side.

The older man introduced himself as the owner of the bar and said that Smitty mentioned we were new in town. "I put two and two together … and figured out you must be the one my sister was telling me about." He offered me the job on the spot, based on what he had seen tonight, plus the recommendation of his sister, who owned the diner.

Before I could reply, Eli came back from the men's room. "Can't leave you alone for a minute. Can I, V?"

I explained why the two men were talking to me and said, "I was just about to accept the job."

He gave me a look that got the owner's attention. "Why don't I leave you two to talk it over." He started to step away.

Eli said to me, "Babe, if you want to take the job, go ahead. You don't need my permission." But he said it in a way that implied Victoria really did need Emilio's permission to do anything.

The owner extended his hand to Eli, "I'm Sam. Nice to meet you both. Victoria, you can drop by tomorrow to fill out the paperwork."

After Smitty and Sam walked back toward the bar, I said to Eli, "You're scary good at this jealous, protective boyfriend thing."

Grabbing me by the waist, he pulled me into his chest. "You ain't seen nothin' yet, babe."

My heart rate sped up. "Is that so?"

In a dark tone, he growled, "I'm deadly serious. Never doubt that."

And then his lips were on mine – claiming me, making my mouth his the moment his tongue entered. One hand cupped my ass and the other found its way under my shirt. The skin to skin contact surprised me, but it was not unwelcome.

My body moved involuntarily, wanting release of the tension building inside me. It amazed me how quickly I got turned on by his touch, his kisses.

We stayed at the bar for another hour, playing pool and occasionally talking to the guys he worked with. Then, we headed home.

The bar was just a couple of blocks from the apartment, so we had walked. I was thankful for that. After the kissing earlier in the evening, it would have been more than I could handle riding on the motorcycle with him.

Eli settled in on the couch as I was getting a glass of water in the kitchen. He gave me a look just before I turned to go back to the bedroom. Was that longing in his eyes? As I closed the door, I looked at him again. He held my gaze until it was shut.

* * *

A/N:

I borrowed a couple lines from the John Hughes classic Some Kind of Wonderful (1987): "Do you know how much damage we could do to each other in an hour?" … "It's kind of a revolting thought, actually."

[

While you wait for the next chapter, if you haven't checked out my other VMars fics, have a look. There are several shorter fics and a few longer ones (including a series that will be 5 parts; currently Part 3 is on hiatus while I work on this).

Another one-shot pulled from my "ideas folder" went up at the same time as this chapter.

Until next time …

~Jen

7 September 2019


	4. Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

 **Chapter 4 begins the next day.**

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

 **Friday 19 June 2015**

Eli was on the early shift, and I was on closing. After he left for the auto shop, I went by the bar to talk to the owner. I gave him the same story I had given the owner of the diner, asking if it would be possible to do this without a paper trail.

"My sister told me already. I just need you to fill out your local contact info so I know how to get ahold of you. But you can leave the rest blank."

When I handed the form back to him, I said, "Thank you so much."

"Start tomorrow night? Saturdays get busy. I could use an extra pair of hands. The way you look, you should get some good tips – especially on weekends."

[

I went back to the apartment to send an email update to Mr. Gellar and to change into my uniform before heading to work at the diner.

Things were going well. If Smitty was the witness, then we should be able to wrap this up pretty quickly. I just had to figure out if we had the right guy – and find a way to talk to him alone.

I got to the diner just as the place was filling up for lunch. The older waitress said I could take the table with the guys from the auto shop, which included my "boyfriend." A few of the guys still didn't know that Victoria and Emilio were a couple. As they flirted with me, Eli got noticeably annoyed. At one point, he pulled me away from the table, where we pretended to have a disagreement.

[

When I finished at the diner, I went home – yes, strangely, I had begun thinking of the apartment as home. Eli texted that he was gonna stop at Sam's for a drink after work.

A while later, I got another text: _Smitty is probably headed your way._

Less than five minutes after his text, there was a knock at the door. When I looked through the peephole, I saw Smitty's face.

Opening the door, I saw him standing there with his hands in his jeans pockets.

I looked around as if to be sure nobody was watching. "How did you know where I live?"

"I met Emilio out back the day you moved in."

"Right." I stepped outside, pulling the door closed behind me. "Something I can help you with?"

"No, but I might be able to help you."

"I don't understand."

"I've been watching … how he is with you … how you are around him. I just want you to know that if you ever need help, I'm here."

Staring at him for a minute, I considered how to respond. Finally, I said honestly, "I don't know what to say."

Before I could say anything else, Eli came around the corner of the building, yelling, "What the actual fuck?!"

As I started to open the door to go back inside, I said to Smitty, "You should go. Now."

I heard him say, "I'll check on you tomorrow," as I closed the door.

With my ear against the door, I listened to Eli play the jealous boyfriend. I also heard Smitty do his best to calm him down – using phrases like "just a friend" and "was on my way home" and "just asking her when she'd be starting at Sam's."

When Eli came into the apartment, he slammed the door. He winked at me and smiled just before he threw a book against the table and knocked over a chair. As he did this, he was careful not to do any real damage. He yelled the types of things you'd expect from a jealous boyfriend: "What?! You thought I wouldn't notice the way he looks at you? That I wouldn't find out that he was coming by to see you?"

About half an hour later, I got a text that repeated what Smitty had said when we stood outside talking: _If you ever need help, I'm here._

 _How did you get my number?_

 _Sam._

I showed the texts to Eli, saying, "I think we found our witness."

[

[

 **Saturday 20 June 2015**

We had another awkward moment in the morning while getting ready for work – the kind of moment filled with sexual tension that both of us tried to pretend wasn't there, chemistry that we recognized but did not follow through on. Not in the apartment anyway.

That day, I worked two shifts – one at the diner, one at Sam's bar. Eli worked a double at the auto body shop because one of the mechanics was out sick.

While I was at the diner, Eli came in during his lunch break. We staged another disagreement. Hushed tones, but lots of scowling while he got in my face and grabbed my arm as I turned to walk away from him. He didn't stay long. He ate quickly and paid his bill – without leaving me a tip.

My boss, Stephanie, was concerned enough about what had happened that she asked if everything was okay. I just said that my boyfriend had been under a lot of stress before we moved to town. He'd been holding it together, but lately, everything rubbed him the wrong way. Stephanie asked if there was anything she could do – or should do. In other words, she wanted to know if I was safe.

After Stephanie finished talking to me, Smitty had a conversation with her. It could have been about anything. Or so I told myself – until Smitty came over to talk to me. At first, he just made casual conversation at the counter while I filled his coffee. But the whole time he was looking me over, probably checking for bruises.

Finally, he asked, "You seem to be okay. But would you tell me if you weren't?"

"I don't know you that well. And I'm not sure what you're getting at."

"I think you do." He paused, took a sip of coffee, and studied me. "Would you tell someone – anyone – if you needed help? If you weren't safe with him?"

I didn't reply. I looked down and wiped off the counter, which was already clean.

Then, Smitty whispered, "Look, I don't know the details, but I know that Sam and Stephanie are both concerned about you. And I've seen enough to be concerned. It seems like you may have gone from one bad situation to another." He waited for me to look up at him. "You don't know us well, but you can trust us. We will have your back. You just have to ask for help."

"That's … very kind of you … but not necessary."

"Well, you've got my number. And Sam's. And Stephanie's. In case you need to call someone." He drained the last of the liquid in his mug and put a hand over it so I wouldn't refill it. "I know someone … a woman … who went through some rough times with her husband. You … your situation … reminds me of her." He stood up and started pulling money from his pocket. "I just don't want to see you go through what she went through. Not if I can do something about it."

I allowed myself to tear up. Silently, I wiped a tear from my cheek as I nodded and gave Smitty a sad smile.

Smitty had to be the witness we were looking for.

[

When my shift ended at the diner, I used the restroom to change out of my uniform into jeans and a T-shirt with the logo for Sam's on the front. Then, I went straight to the bar.

First night of work … on a Saturday. I mean, it's not like I would be dealing with a Saturday night crowd in Midtown, but a Saturday night crowd at a bar is still a Saturday night crowd at a bar. I prepared myself to have to deal with some drunken craziness. And since Eli wouldn't be there to glare at them until later, probably at least a few guys would hit on me.

The regulars at Sam's did not disappoint.

Smitty came in shortly after I started. He ordered a beer and sat at the far end of the bar. In between waiting on customers, I hung out behind the bar, and slowly, I made my way down to his end. I kept busy arranging things under the bar and wiping things down. But he knew I was hovering near him on purpose.

Finally, he asked, "You need to talk? I mean usually it's the bartender who listens to the customers, but I don't mind the role reversal."

I laughed a little at that but still didn't say anything. I glanced at the clock and knew that Eli would be arriving soon. I planned to wait a little while longer before I began "opening up" to Smitty – just in time for my "boyfriend" to catch me talking to him.

About five minutes after I began to talk to Smitty about my "abusive ex-husband" – as if on cue – Eli strolled through the door. When his eyes met mine, he came to a full stop. In that moment, I saw him flip the switch I'd seen him flip in high school – and it would be clear to anyone that he viewed himself as "top of the food chain" and the one in control.

I broke eye contact with Eli and looked down as I re-rearranged things under the bar. Moving my lips as little as possible, I said, "He's here. You should probably stay away from me."

"Alright. If that's what you want. But I'll be around if you need me."

When Smitty moved to a table in the corner, Eli took the stool he had vacated. I placed a beer in front of him before he even ordered it.

"Perfect timing. He was just encouraging me to open up when you walked in."

He looked at me through narrowed eyes, as he whispered, "What level of asshole do I need to be tonight?"

"Nothing over-the-top. Typical controlling asshole. Jealous boyfriend of new waitress. Mark your territory. But if anyone provokes you, roll with it. Just don't do enough damage to get me fired or you thrown out."

He took a sip as he glared over at Smitty. "Got it."

Through the rest of my shift, Smitty kept a close eye on me. And my "boyfriend" kept an eye on every guy who spoke to me. And that was a lot of people because the place was busy.

About an hour before closing, the place had mostly cleared out. Sam said I could clock out; he decided he didn't want to take the time tonight to show me how to close.

"You mind if I hang around and shoot some pool with Emilio?" I asked Sam.

"That's fine. But I think your boy's had enough to drink tonight."

Before turning away, I nodded at him. Eli had had several drinks in the short time he had been here. I knew he had done that for appearances, but I wasn't sure how much it took to get him drunk or how his personality might change. I walked over to the pool table to find out.

We talked a bit while we played one game. He was definitely buzzed but in control. As he sunk the last shot, he told me that he was gonna play drunker than he was, that I should let him take the lead.

He went up to the bar to order another beer.

Smitty walked up behind him and said to Sam, "I think he's had enough."

Eli glanced over his shoulder in annoyance as he said, "You know, I think the bartender – not another patron – is the one who gets to determine that."

Sam looked over at me, then at Smitty, and finally at Eli. "You're right about that. But I agree with him. You've had enough for tonight."

Clearly not pleased by this development, he turned around to walk back to where I stood. He grabbed my hand and said it was time to go. We were walking past the jukebox when he got an idea. He stopped to get money out of his pocket and chose a song to play.

As Al Green started singing "Let's Stay Together," Eli pulled me into the middle of the floor. I'm not sure if it was the song, the chemistry between us, or the alcohol in Eli's blood, but the few minutes we spent on that dance floor were intense. His hands laid claim to my body as his lips explored my collarbone, neck, and ear – finally making his way to my mouth.

When he broke the kiss, he remained nose to nose with me. With one of his hands on my ass, he slid the other hand up my waist to cup my breast – in clear view of Sam and Smitty. After a minute or so, he moved his hands – from my breast to my neck and from my ass to my lower back. He pulled my head in for a kiss just as he pressed on my lower back, bringing my pelvis up against him.

Before I had a chance to process the fact that I could feel his arousal pressing into me, he moved his mouth to my ear. "We've got an audience." He nibbled lightly on my earlobe. "But then, we often do."

"What does that mean?"

"Means I think he finds you attractive, V."

I didn't reply. I wasn't sure how to.

While still holding my lower torso against him, he leaned his upper body away so he could look into my eyes as he asked, "Any interest in him?"

"This is a job."

"Yeah, but if it weren't?"

"Not my type."

I could hear the effect of the alcohol as he said, "Ah, right. I forgot. Your type."

Annoyed, I pulled away from him. He grabbed my wrist and gently tugged me back toward him.

"I just meant … you never really went for tall, dark, and handsome. Your boyfriends tended to be on the pale side with light hair … and usually wealthy. Admit it – you have a type."

"Things change."

"Really?!"

"Why does that surprise you?" I pulled away again and spoke loudly on purpose.

He pulled me back to him and said through gritted teeth: "The more things change, the more they stay the same."

"That saying might be true sometimes, but I'm here now … with you. So obviously something changed." I wasn't sure how much of this was an act for him. "Since we have an audience for this little disagreement, figured we might as well play it up."

He grabbed my chin and demanded, "Give me your mouth, babe."

The song had just ended, and we stood there staring at each other, neither of us moving.

Finally, I kissed him. And he devoured my mouth like I was his favorite food. When he had gotten his fill, he leaned his forehead against mine, saying, "Guess we should get going."

He loosened his hold on me so I could step away from him. When I was getting my purse and jacket from the back room, the bartender asked me if everything was okay. Apparently, we had put on quite a show.

"My boyfriend got a little jealous because a customer was staring at me."

He laughed at that. "I would think he'd be used to it. You're gorgeous. What does he expect? I doubt there's a guy who hasn't stared at you at least twice since you got to town."

"Don't let him hear you say that," I said, deadly serious. Then, I smiled and added, "But thanks for the compliment."

[

Eli had his arm draped around my shoulders as we walked back to the apartment.

When we got to the door, I started to put the key in the lock, but he grabbed me and pressed my back against the door, kissing me senseless for the tenth time tonight.

Then, he whispered in my ear, "Neighbors are watching."

Was that kiss just part of the act? Or was he covering?

After Eli made a stop in the bathroom, he left himself a note on the kitchen counter to call Valentina when he woke up.

He mumbled "Goodnight" as he flopped onto the couch. I pulled the blanket over him and then walked down the hallway to the bedroom.

Before falling asleep, I spent some time thinking. I hadn't realized how much I missed having a "significant other," someone to spend time with. Although I hadn't dated in a long time – I'd had no interest in dating – I began to wonder if I would be interested in Smitty if I weren't working a case.

After rolling things around in my exhausted brain, I decided that it might be time to start dating again after this case. The problem, of course, was what it had always been – I needed to find someone who would be okay with my crazy schedule, a job that was potentially dangerous, and a boatload of unresolved baggage.

But that was a dilemma to solve after I closed this case.

* * *

A/N:

Another one-shot pulled from my "ideas folder" went up at the same time as this chapter.

Until next time …

~Jen

15 September 2019


	5. Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

 **Chapter 5 begins the next day.**

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

 **Sunday 21 June 2015**

We had gotten home late the night before. And Eli had had more than a few drinks.

Although I got up around 8 a.m., I was not surprised that he was still sleeping. By the time the coffee was ready, he began to stir.

As I handed him a mug of coffee, I suggested that we spend a lazy day in the apartment. Eli had the day off, and I only had to work a short shift at the diner later in the day.

He was stretched out on the couch. After finishing his coffee, he checked email on his phone. He had gotten an email from his aunt asking when he thought he'd be flying home.

As he told me about the email and asked for an estimate, I was sitting on the couch - on the little bit of space at the edge of the cushion, next to his waist. I was doing research on my laptop, which was on the coffee table.

"If this plan works, we should be done here tomorrow or the next day." Looking up from the computer screen, I asked if he planned to go right home. I would certainly understand him wanting to get back to his daughter.

"I'd like to stay for a few days … if that's alright with you."

Unsure how to reply to that - mostly because I wasn't sure how I felt about all this - I just nodded.

After staring into my eyes for a moment, he asked, "You mind if I make a call? Or would you rather I go in the other room?"

"It's fine," I said and went back to writing an email.

I heard his aunt telling him that Valentina had been sad last night when he didn't call. Lucia must have moved her iPhone over toward the toddler because I heard joyful noises as the girl saw her father's face.

"Hey, there. How's my sweet girl today?"

He talked with her while she tried to feed him Cheerios through the phone screen. His laugh was filled with pure joy as he interacted with her long-distance. Then, she moved on to playing with colored blocks.

He praised her for putting the blocks in matching pairs of blue, red, and yellow. "Such a smart girl." His love for her overflowed into the tone of his voice. "Miss you so much, V."

My fingers stopped mid-sentence.

After Valentina replied that she missed Eli too, he said, "I love you, sweetheart. I'll be home soon."

I could hear her trying to blow kisses through the phone.

When he finished talking to his aunt about the fact that he'd let her know tomorrow when he'd be home, but if all went well, he planned to fly home next Sunday.

He ended the call and laid his phone on his chest. I could feel him watching me.

"You call her V?" I asked, without turning to face him.

"If you met her, you'd understand."

"Why do you say that?"

"When she wants something … she gives me this look … and then tilts her head."

I turned to look at him. "She. Does. Not."

"Swear to God. What else would I call her?"

My mind tried to process the fact that - even before I called him a week ago - he had been thinking about me enough to make the connection between a memory of me and his daughter's actions. I honestly wasn't sure how that made me feel - that he would use the same nickname for his daughter that he had used for me. After silently looking at him for a moment, I finally said, "I'm sure you'll be glad to get back to her."

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, I miss her. But when I get home, I'll be missing someone else."

It wasn't just his words that hit me; it was the tone in his voice. Butterflies were set loose in my belly. No way would I directly reply to that comment right now. "I need to finish this email and then get to the diner."

My thoughts were swimming as I took my shower. And apparently, I was so distracted that I forgot to take my clothes into the bathroom with me. After drying off, I wrapped the towel around my torso and then stepped out into the hallway. The moment I turned to walk toward the bedroom, I ran straight into Eli.

His arms had gone around me – I suspect more in surprise, more as a reflex. He smirked as he said, "You don't have to throw yourself at me, V. A little flirting would get your point across."

"What point would that be?"

"That you're having trouble keeping your hands off me when we're in the apartment."

I tried to laugh it off as I said, "What I'm having trouble with right now … is getting to the bedroom so I can get ready for work."

He stepped to the side and made a grand gesture with his arm. As I passed by him, he said softly, "Let me know if you need any assistance."

Just before I left for work, he asked, "Have I mentioned how much I like this uniform on you?"

I just shook my head and laughed as I opened the door to leave.

[

Later, he came by the diner. He planted one hell of a kiss on me - in full view of everyone. I smacked his arm and told him to let me get back to work. He pulled me into his chest so he could talk to me and not be overheard.

His facial expression was set so that it would look like we were having a disagreement. But he said this: "It's confusing ... kissing you in public ... but in the apartment ... I'm not even supposed to comment on how hot you look in this uniform."

I said the only thing I could under the circumstances, "Can we talk about this later? When people aren't watching us."

After he left, one member of our "audience" approached me. Smitty. He wanted to make sure that I was okay. He had seen the tension between the two of us, but he had read it as something else. That certainly worked in my favor - keeping up the illusion of Emilio and Victoria's complicated relationship. However, I wasn't sure what to do about the increasingly complicated relationship between Eli and me.

[

[

 **Monday 22 June 2015**

Neither of us had to work our cover jobs, so we decided to put in that time working on resolving this case. Now that I was as certain as I could be that Smitty was the witness I was looking for, I needed to find a way to get him alone to talk about why I was here.

Eli and I talked through options while we did laundry and cleaned up the apartment. I dealt with some work emails and then got ready to go out after eating supper.

We spent the evening at Sam's bar. We drank - not too much, but enough to have a nice buzz. We danced and played pool; we laughed and flirted. We staged a few moments for people to witness Emilio's controlling tendencies. Smitty wasn't there to see it, but we knew it would get back to him either through Sam or one of the guys who worked at the shop.

The whole time we were there, Eli could hardly keep his hands off me. It was the same the entire walk back to the apartment. When we got home, he started kissing me at the door, as I was trying to put the key in the lock. The neighbor lady was leaving to walk her dog; she paused in the hallway to watch us.

He had me pressed against the door, kissing and nibbling his way down my neck to my collarbone.

Whispering in his ear, I said, " We should go in."

Making his way back up to my ear, he responded, "But when we go in ... this has to stop."

A couple of minutes later, he stopped distracting me from the task of unlocking the door.

After we got inside, I asked him what he had meant by his last comment - and also what he had said the day before at the diner. We had never finished that conversation.

He flopped down on the couch and stared at the ceiling as he replied. "For years, I wondered … fantasized about what it would be like ... just to kiss you. Now that I know how it feels to have you in my arms, your lips kissing me back … Why would I want that to stop?"

"For years? You're kidding right?"

"I know you're not that dumb. You had to know how I felt."

"Eli … I ..." Seriously, I didn't know what to say.

"V, you don't have to say anything." He paused and then said, "I'll just have to wait until after this case is over to seduce you."

"Is that a joke?"

He sat up and looked at me. "Do you want it to be?" When I didn't answer, he stood up and started walking down the hallway, "I'm gonna take a shower. A cold one."

As I listened to the water running in the shower, I couldn't help but imagine how he looked the other day when he had opened the bathroom door wrapped in a towel. But then my thoughts drifted to all the moments we had shared recently - not just as Emilio and Victoria, but as ourselves here in the apartment. He had said he wanted to stay after the case was done. He had said he would miss me when he went home.

And suddenly I realized that I would miss him too. More than I would have thought possible. But I wasn't ready to admit that yet.

Definitely wasn't ready to deal with that level of "complicated." Me on the East Coast. Him on the West Coast. Me finishing law school. Him running a business while doing the single parent thing.

More than that ... although I trusted him with my life, I wasn't sure I was ready to let him in. Not like that. Not yet.

* * *

A/N:

Another one-shot from my "ideas folder" went up at the same time as this. Not a WeeVer fic this time. Set a year after the movie, Wallace goes to NYC to visit Piz. One night, they go out to a bar, and Wallace decides to play wingman. There's awkward flirting. And Wallace picks on his old roomie. Plus there's a bit of romance between Piz and a female OC. If that sounds interesting to you, check out: "Piz Walks into a Bar."

Until next time …

~Jen

27 September 2019


	6. Chapter 6

DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

Apologies for the delay. Life is insanely busy – all good stuff though.

Welcome to all the new readers! Thanks for the follows/favs/reviews. Every time I got an email notification, it made me smile and wish I could find time to get back to this.

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

This had been a bad idea. Staying up late, playing poker – after drinks at Sam's and our usual flirting. I can't remember which one of us suggested strip poker, but here we were on the fifth hand. He had lost his socks on the first hand. My jeans went on the second. His shirt and jeans on the third and fourth.

I sat looking at my cards trying to decide if I would rather win or lose this hand. If I won, he'd remove his boxers. I couldn't unsee that. Plus, the game would be over. If I lost, I'd remove my sweatshirt, leaving three articles of clothing: a tank top over a lacy underwire bra, plus panties. And the game would continue.

Ultimately, I decided to let him have that hand, which gave me more time to decide how I wanted this to go. I stood to pull the hooded sweatshirt over my head, thinking that it would make things easier if I was standing. But I got stuck. And Eli came toward me to help.

After freeing my head from the narrow neckline, he stared into my eyes as he helped untangle my left arm from its sleeve. The moment was highly charged – my heart pounding in my chest, my mind unable to think a coherent thought. Once my arm was free, he threw the sweatshirt onto the couch and let his gaze drop.

He smiled as he saw that I had been wearing a tank top underneath. "Looks like I need to win the next hand to get a better look at you," he said as his index finger traced along the straps of my bra and tank top.

As he dealt, I picked up each card. I had a sinking feeling this hand was not going to go my way. I silently cursed myself for not taking control of the game when I had the chance.

I ended up with three of a kind, which was a miracle considering what I had been dealt. I just had to hope that his hand was worse than mine.

No such luck. When he laid down his cards – in dramatic fashion, one by one – he revealed that he had a straight flush. His cocky smile told me that he knew he had me without even seeing my hand.

After I laid down my cards, he sat back in his chair, preparing to watch me remove my top. Nervous energy rushed through me as I stood. When I began to pull the tank top off, he moved toward me.

"Thought you might need some assistance again."

Once the fabric had made it over my head, he and I were face to face – in fact, we were nose to nose, chest to chest. Me in my bra and panties. Him in only his boxers.

He placed a hand on the side of my neck, his thumb moving along my jaw. Then, his thumb began brushing my bottom lip.

"These lips. Can't stop thinking about them. How it feels to kiss you. What it would feel like to have these lips all over my body. To have them wrapped around me." He paused before adding, "This mouth is mine. You know that, right?"

As he finished talking, I gasped. He took advantage of the fact that my mouth fell open, and he slid his thumb inside. I swirled my tongue around the tip of it and then closed my lips around it and sucked gently.

He moaned so deeply it was almost a growl. "Damn, V." He glanced down at his tented boxers. "You gonna take care of that for me?" He continued sliding his thumb in and out of my mouth, finally bringing it out to play with my bottom lip again.

We stared at one another as he waited for my reply.

I guess I took too long with my response, because he suddenly sat down, pulling me to my knees between his legs.

I was both startled and aroused as I awoke, sitting straight up in bed. My heart was racing, and my skin was damp with sweat. I didn't have to check to know that my panties were more than damp.

Holy hell. That was one of the most vivid dreams I had ever had.

Quietly, I walked out to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Apparently, not quietly enough. Eli rolled over on the couch and asked if I was having trouble sleeping.

How the hell should I answer that question?

[

[

 **Tuesday 23 June 2015**

I was finally able to go back to sleep. When I got up, Eli had already made coffee – for which I was thankful. He asked me how I slept; I shrugged and mumbled a non-reply.

We both headed to work – him to the shop, me to the diner – after reviewing the plan. We had staged several spats. Now we needed to create a scenario big enough – and concerning enough – that Smitty would intervene. I was counting on his protective tendency toward women in danger to give me an opening to talk to him alone.

If all went well, that would happen tonight.

My goal was to stay focused until I was finished with this case. Then I could deal with whatever was happening between Eli and me.

[

We had agreed that "Emilio" would text me to bring his lunch to the shop, which would give us a chance to roleplay a disagreement during the day, laying the groundwork for tonight.

When I arrived at the shop, I had to wait a few minutes before Eli was available. I didn't want to leave it for him; we needed Smitty to see us interact. The fact that I was feeling awkward around Eli after that steamy dream could actually work as motivation and subtext as I played out another scene in front of Smitty.

After a few minutes, Eli came to meet me near the office, in view of the other mechanics. I glanced over at Smitty, who was not even trying to hide the fact that he was watching us.

I handed the bag to Eli and then quickly crossed my arms in front of my body. He reached for one of my hands, and I pulled it away from him. I started to turn to leave, but he grabbed my arm in one hand as he set the food bag down on a nearby table.

This much of it we had rehearsed, but then Eli began to improvise. And I became increasingly uncomfortable (which, again, worked for the scene we were staging).

He still held my upper arm in one hand as the other wrapped around the side of my neck. His thumb moved along my jaw, finally making its way to my bottom lip. He pulled me close as he said, "Baby, I love these lips of yours. This mouth is all mine." Seeming to notice that we had an audience, he said gruffly, "You know that, right? Or do I need to remind you?"

The look he gave me was more than suggestive – it was absolutely clear what "Emilio" wanted "Victoria" to do with her mouth. If I didn't know this was an act, I would have been even more shocked than I was. I'm sure that it was clear to our observers what he was suggesting, as well as what my reaction was.

Although he had not used all the same words as in my dream, the situation was too similar. I gasped – surprised, embarrassed, and uncomfortable. Again, I tried to pull away unsuccessfully.

Glancing over at Smitty, I saw that he was watching intently. He started to walk over to where we stood. He mentioned that the guys from the shop have a weekly poker game and invited Emilio to join them. Then he directed his attention at me, "Sometimes our girlfriends and wives join the game. If you'd be interested, Victoria."

Eli responded before I could. "You don't want her at your game."

Smitty gave me a look; it was clear that he thought this was Emilio being controlling.

"She will take every cent you have," Eli added with a laugh.

"Is that so?" Smitty didn't seem to believe that. He and a couple of the other guys looked back and forth between Emilio and me.

"Only one way to find out," I said with a shrug.

Eli laughed again, more darkly this time. "Seriously, man, you don't want to take her on. She almost never loses."

"Sounds like you found out the hard way."

"Years back, she won $5,000 in one night. A grand of that was my money."

Again I shrugged. "Well, if you boys won't let me in your poker game, guess I better get back to work. Need the tip money."

Eli grabbed my arm again as I was leaving. Leaned in to whisper something in my ear. And slapped me on the ass as I left. All part of the act.

Being this close to him after talking about playing poker … and the way he had brushed his thumb along my bottom lip … and what he had said. All of that had me thinking about the dream I'd had last night.

Those thoughts kept distracting me all afternoon as I waited on customers at the diner.

[

Eli texted me later to say tell me that Smitty had pulled him aside for a little chat about "how he should treat women." His last text in our conversation read: "If we play this right tonight, we should be able to get him alone."

I agreed.

That meant this case would be over soon. We would be able to stop the emotional whiplash between roleplaying Emilio & Victoria and our time together as Eli & Veronica.

* * *

A/N:

There are three more chapters to **this fic**. Hope to have them up in the next few weeks, completing the fic by the end of November.

I'll return to **Commence** (Along the Road series) by Christmas. Probably a couple more **one-shots** sometime in there too (nothing new posted today though).

If anyone participates in NaNoWriMo during November, send me a pm so we can connect on that site.

Until next time …

~Jen

26 October 2019


	7. Chapter 7

DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

 **Chapter 7** **occurs the same day.**

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

 **Tuesday 23 June 2015 … continued**

That night, I was working at the bar. When Eli arrived a couple hours after his shift ended, he pretended to already have several drinks in him. I convinced the head bartender to let me serve him, giving my reason as: "so that I know how much he's had tonight."

Over the next couple of hours, I served him a single beer and several watered-down shots. To the rest of the bar patrons and employees, he seemed plastered. And they were concerned about him – and me.

At one point during the night, Eli grabbed me as I was walking past his bar stool. Thankfully, he had waited until my hands were empty. He pulled me in between his knees and held me in place with his legs. One hand wound around my ponytail and pulled so that I faced him as he spoke. With his other hand, he ran his thumb along my bottom lip as he had earlier in the day.

"When we get home, you're gonna be a good girl and put that mouth of yours to use, right? I know how you love taking all of me in the sweet mouth of yours." Eli made sure that anyone within 10 feet heard what he said.

I glanced over at Smitty and then dropped my eyes, doing my best to look embarrassed. " _Emilio_ , please … let me go."

Something flashed behind his eyes. I had made a point of only using Emilio's full name when speaking about him, not directly to him. Eli had not missed the fact that I had chosen to use it now – even adding emphasis.

We had not rehearsed this scene, had not even discussed this type of scene. That made me panic a bit. I mean, I trusted Eli with my life, but this was different.

My ponytail still wrapped around his hand, he pulled my head closer so he could whisper in my ear. "Message received. I'll dial it down, Veronica." His tone was like a warm caress, making me want to melt into his embrace.

As he loosened his hold on me, his hands drifted down to my hips, where they settled gently. Before completely releasing me, he placed a kiss on the tip of my nose.

For the next half hour, he stumbled his way around a pool table. When he approached the bar to order another drink, Sam suggested that I leave early and get my boyfriend home.

As I struggled to help "Emilio" walk toward the door, Smitty came over to help prop him up on the other side.

"Thanks," I said and smiled weakly. But inside, I was doing a happy dance. Everything was going according to plan.

[

It was around 11:30 pm when Smitty drove us back to the apartment in his truck. After we struggled our way through the door and into the living room, I asked Smitty to get a glass of water while I got Emilio settled on the couch.

While Smitty's back was turned, Eli moved over to lock and block the door. When Smitty returned to the living room, Eli gestured toward the couch and said, "Have a seat."

"What the hell?" Smitty looked back and forth between us.

"I just need to talk to you. Give me a few minutes to explain." I introduced myself and showed him my P.I. license, as well as my business card with the law firm's info on it. Then, I began to tell him why I had been looking for him and why I had had to play out this charade in order to make sure I had the right person.

Once he heard me out, he relaxed a bit, though it clearly made him uneasy that Eli was guarding his only exit. Finally, he opened up, confirming things I already knew from our client as well as filling in some missing details.

He was a childhood friend of our client, Lydia. Her husband, Al, was abusive. She had always come to his neighborhood to visit, but when the beatings became more frequent, she came as often as she could get away. She began having an affair with Smitty's best friend, Benji. Being lifelong friends, Smitty knew the details of her life – and why she wanted to get away, even for a few hours at a time.

He and Benji were both with her at the local bar when her husband showed up to drag her home. He was in a rage and grabbed her, dragging her outside. She tried to break free. Benji shoved Al into a brick wall and the three of them started to walk away. Al came after them with a gun. While he was ranting, a car backfired and distracted him. Benji took the opportunity to hit him over the head – Smitty wasn't sure with what. Lydia's husband fell to the sidewalk. Smitty kicked the gun out of Al's hand and then picked it up before they ran away.

When Smitty got home, he put the gun under a floorboard in his apartment. He heard on the news the next day that Al had died at the hospital from a head injury.

Smitty continued, "She had been doing some bookkeeping for the family businesses. She was valuable to them, but she could also testify to lots of … shall we say 'wrongdoing.' So they needed could keep her in line. They had Benji killed to motivate her. When I heard they had put a hit out on him, I decided I should disappear for a while. I thought she had too."

I asked, "Where is the gun now?"

He says, "Unless the new tenant pulled up the floor, it's right where I left it." Shaking his head, he said, "I can't believe she'd be willing to go to jail to protect Benji's name. If I'd have known, I would have gone back to give a statement. But if I'm gonna testify, I'm gonna need protection."

"Already ahead of you on that." I explained that I had been in touch with the law firm earlier in the day and told them to be ready tonight. "As soon as I call them, they will have two bodyguards here in an hour. We expect that, once they put your statement together with our client's, the DA will probably want to make a deal with both of you to take down the big fish – as I understand it, that's her late husband's uncle."

"Will we be able to go into witness protection together?"

"You'll have to take that up with the DA and the folks at WITSEC." I pulled out my phone and called Mr. Gellar with the news. When I got off the phone, I told Smitty, "They're on their way. When they get here, you'll have some time to gather things from your apartment, and then you'll be taken to a safe location somewhere in the city. The lead attorney on Lydia's case is getting in touch with the DA and will get a warrant to search your old apartment for the gun. Until then, sit back and relax."

"Relax? While he blocks the door?" Smitty gestured toward Eli.

"Just to make sure you don't run off before they arrive. And of course, to keep you safe until we hand you off."

"Oh, of course." Turning back to Eli, Smitty asked, "Is Emilio even your real name?"

Shaking his head, he said, "My name's Eli."

"Nice to meet you, Eli."

In an attempt to continue the civilized atmosphere, I asked Smitty, "Can I get you anything to drink or eat? I can make some coffee. And I think there are a few pieces of apple pie."

"From the diner? Stephanie's apple pie?" When I nodded, he smiled and said, "Yeah, I'll take a slice."

Eli chimed in, "I'll take one, too."

We were all pretty quiet while eating apple pie and drinking our coffee. But eventually, Smitty started asking us more questions – clearly curious about who we really were. At some point, one of us had told him that we were originally from California. So of course, that was one of the random facts he decided he wanted to confirm.

"Yes, we are really from California," I replied with a smile.

"Are you really a couple?" Smitty looked back and forth between us, but his eyes settled on me.

"He's an old friend … doing me a favor."

Smitty took that as an opening. After several minutes of flirting, he asked me out. I declined as politely as possible – I really shouldn't, I'm working a case, you'll probably be relocating soon.

"But if we had met under different circumstances?"

This line of questioning was making me uncomfortable. "My answer would probably still be no. I haven't dated in a while – bad break up about a year ago after a long-term relationship – but I recently started seeing someone."

Gesturing toward Eli, Smitty asked, "And you two really never…?"

I glanced over at Eli before answering, "The first time we kissed was as Emilio and Victoria."

"I find that hard to believe. Well, whoever this new guy in your life is … I hope he knows how lucky he is. And if you ever find yourself single again, look me up." He winked at me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Eli bristle at the flirtatious comment.

Eventually, the bodyguards arrived. They had driven two cars – with the intention to leave one for me to drive back the next day. I went with them over to Smitty's apartment to help him pack up. He was concerned about just disappearing. I suggested that he wait until tomorrow to call his boss and landlord to let them know that he had to leave – but of course, he should be vague on the details.

As the car pulled away, I walked back over to our apartment. I wasn't sure what kind of mood Eli would be in. He might even be asleep. But he might want to talk.

When I walked through the door, he stuck his head out of the bathroom. He had started getting ready for bed. As I walked past the kitchen, I noticed that he had washed the dishes.

While I began to dry a plate, Eli leaned against the wall.

"Do we need to talk about earlier … at the bar?"

"No," I replied softly, without looking at him.

"You sure? You were obviously uncomfortable."

"We were playing roles, doing what was necessary to get the job done."

"Veronica …"

"Eli, just leave it."

"Alright. For now." He paused before continuing, "So, I was right about Smitty having a thing for you."

I shrugged and put another plate in the cabinet.

"You mentioned to him that you started seeing someone recently. Is that why you've been weird with me? Because of what I said about—"

I cut him off before he could finish his question. "I'm sorry I've been acting strange." Without looking at him, I shook my head and said, "The pressure of trying to finish up the case, I guess."

"Veronica, I'd like to know ... Did you start seeing someone? Or were you just trying to let the guy down easy?"

"Can we talk about this tomorrow? After I've had some sleep?"

"Okay. But answer one question for me: Are you mad at me? About something I said or did today? Or last night?"

"Pretty sure that was more than one question," I said with a laugh. After putting away the last dish, I turned to him and said honestly, "I'm not mad at you. I'm just tired. And I have a lot on my mind." As I started for the bedroom, I gently placed a hand on his shoulder and said, "Goodnight, Eli."

* * *

A/N:

Look for the remaining chapters about once a week. (After rereading, I changed the chapter divisions and added to a few scenes, so there are 3 more for a total of 10 chapters.) And probably 2 one-shots by the end of the month.

Until next time …

~Jen

1 November 2019


	8. Chapter 8

DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

 **Chapter 8 begins later the same night.**

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

Unlike last night, I was aware that I was dreaming. It was even more intense than the last dream. He was inside me, the full weight of his body on me. And I was on the verge of an intense climax. When I did finally go over the edge, I screamed in pleasure.

I must have actually screamed – not just in my dream – because I startled myself awake. When I sat up in bed, Eli was standing in the doorway, his body silhouetted by the hall light behind him.

He stood there looking at me, not saying anything.

Finally, I spoke. "Did I wake you again?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry." I wasn't sure what else to say.

"Wanna tell me what you were dreaming about … or _who_ you were dreaming about?"

Dropping my eyes, I tried to decide how honest I wanted to be. "Uh … it's kind of embarrassing." While I continued to debate my answer, he remained silent. "It was part dream … part memory from … the other night."

He let out a laugh that was low and dark. "So now I'm starring in your dreams?"

His tone of voice told me that he knew what I had been dreaming. Had I been talking in my sleep? Did I say his name? Or was I just making sounds? Either way – how embarrassing.

I corrected him: " _Emilio_ … was starring in my dream."

"Never knew you had a thing for controlling assholes."

I shrugged. "He can be charming. When he wants to be."

"You're defending him?"

I shrugged again and laughed.

Eli walked toward the bed. As he got closer, I could see that he was shirtless.

"What are you doing?"

He gestured as he said, "Scoot over."

"Why?"

"I'm getting into bed."

"Eli …"

"Damn it, V. The case is over. I want to hold you. And don't even try and tell me you don't want to be held right now. You and I both know it would be a lie." He paused and then demanded, "Move over. Now."

I couldn't help thinking that he was kinda hot when he was bossy. I slid over and held up the sheet. Then I rolled onto my side, turning away from him. He got into bed and curled around my body, his bare chest against my back.

As I was falling back to sleep, my brain was working overtime, doing its inner monologue thing.

Not like I didn't know it before this case, because – to a certain degree – I had known it for years … but I was even more certain now that he and I were good together, that we worked well together. What I wasn't sure about was whether a relationship between us could work.

It scared me to think that if we tried and failed … I could lose a friend, one of the few people I trusted. Drifting off to sleep, I decided that it probably wasn't worth the risk. That although I was tempted – more tempted than I had been in a long time – it would be better to keep things platonic.

That would be quite a challenge, but I could try.

[

[

 **Wednesday 24 June 2015**

I woke up with the sun streaming in between the curtains. It took me a moment to remember why there was an arm wrapped around me – Eli had gotten into my bed last night and was still spooning behind me.

When I tried to get out of bed without waking him, his arm tightened around me, pulling me back against him.

With a smile on my face and laughter in my voice, I said, "Let me go so I can get the coffee started."

"Good idea." He released his hold on me.

A little while later, I was in the shower. He opened the bathroom door to ask how soon I wanted to be leaving.

The thought of him being in the same space as me – while I was naked – was making me wet. And it had nothing to do with the shower.

When I poked my head around the curtain to answer him, the look on his face took my breath away.

Holding my gaze, he closed the door and then leaned back against it.

"Why did you do that?" I asked.

"Thought I'd take this opportunity to talk … while I've got you cornered." He studied my eyes as he said, "You never answered me last night. Are you seeing someone?"

"We can't talk about this after I'm out of the shower?"

"No. And if you don't answer me right now, I'm climbing in there with you."

"You wouldn't dare!"

He took off his shirt and stepped toward the shower.

Holding onto the shower curtain as tightly as I could, I shouted, "Fine! I'll answer you! Just stop – stop right there!"

Crossing his arms, he stood – only about a foot away from me – and waited for me to answer him.

I decided to answer him honestly, but vaguely. With a sigh, I said, "Yes, I did start seeing someone recently, but it's way too early to know what it might be or to put a label on it."

"Have you slept with him?"

"No, we haven't had sex yet."

"How many dates have you been on with him?"

"We've gone out several times. All casual, just hanging out. No formal date, no dinners at nice restaurants."

"Good. Because I'm planning to take you out once we're back in the city. An actual date. Fancy restaurant with a wine list and everything."

Shaking my head, I said, "Eli …"

"Say yes. Or I'm climbing in there." He started to unbutton his jeans.

"You. Are. Not."

"Say yes, V."

"Fine. I'll go out with you." Who am I kidding? I would have agreed, even without the threat.

He smiled, put his shirt back on, and left the room.

[

By the time I came out of the bathroom, he was all packed up. While he dropped in at the shop to pick up his paycheck, I walked down to the diner to hand in my uniform and give Stephanie a note for her brother Sam. Because I didn't have time to tell him personally, I wrote: "A friend let me know that my husband is on my trail. Thought I was careful, but not careful enough. Sorry for the short notice."

Stephanie sent food with me, so Eli and I ate in the apartment before I got in the car and he got on the motorcycle.

[

After we drove back into Manhattan, the first thing we did was drop off our things at my apartment. Then I returned the borrowed car while Eli returned the bike. I had already been at the office for about an hour when he finally arrived.

A few of the partners, as well as the lead attorney on Lydia's case, wanted to meet with us. They had all just gotten back from lunch; Eli and I planned to have a late lunch after the meeting was over.

Leading Eli through the office from reception to my desk attracted even more attention than I would have expected. I think every female in the office – married and single – was staring at him.

Finally, someone got up the nerve to ask me who he was and what he was doing there – with me. They knew I had sworn off men. So they assumed he was a client.

"He's in for a visit." Glancing over at where he sat, fifty feet away. I added, "We used to be friends ... a long time ago."

One of the girls asked, "And now?"

"Unclear." I didn't know these women well enough to tell them about my personal life.

"Come on … I see the way he looks at you."

Just then, he looked over at me, and I felt myself get warm all over. Maybe a little warmer in some places than others.

He was wearing a charcoal button-down shirt with black jeans. He joked that it was the closest he could get to matching the wardrobe at a law office. The women seemed to like how he looked, and the lawyers only wanted to hear what he had to say. So he looked fine. Honestly, he looked _damn_ fine.

The meeting went well – more importantly, it went quickly.

As we stood to leave, Mr. Gellar shook Eli's hand and said, "I like this version of you better."

"Me too. Glad I don't have to pretend to be a controlling asshole anymore."

"We appreciate you taking time out of your schedule. Are you looking forward to getting home?"

With a side glance at me, Eli replied, "I'm actually gonna be hanging around for a few days."

"I was just about to tell Miss Mars here that she should take a few days off. Enjoy your time in New York, Eli."

As I walked toward the conference room door, Mr. Gellar handed me an envelope. Back at my desk, I looked inside. It was a reimbursement check for Eli and a gift certificate for an expensive restaurant I'd been wanting to go to. There was also a note saying that he had made a reservation for us for the next night.

Eli sat beside my desk and watched as I sent a few emails and filed some papers. Then we left for lunch. While we ate, we made plans for the rest of the week – a list of sights he wanted to see, things he wanted to do.

Since I didn't need to go back into the office, we ticked a few of those things off his list that afternoon and then found a cute little place to have a casual dinner.

When we got back to the apartment, we were both exhausted. And oh so happy that we did not need to hang out in a bar tonight, working a case.

He grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge while I flipped through channels looking for something to watch. TCM was playing back to back James Dean movies. Currently playing: _Rebel Without a Cause_.

"Do you mind?" I asked gesturing to the screen. "It's one of my favorites."

As he sat down beside me, he said, "That's fine. Not sure I've ever seen the whole thing."

"Now's your chance. Only missed about 15 minutes," I said as I took the bottle from his hand.

We watched in silence. A couple of times I felt him watching me, and I wondered if he was going to start asking questions again – some questions I really didn't want to answer, didn't really know how to answer.

Was I attracted to him? Yes.

Did I enjoy spending time with him? Yes.

Would it be nice to be with someone who understood all my baggage and could deal with it? Yes.

Would it be complicated as hell to have a relationship with him – especially with the distance involved? Can I get a "hell, yes"? Hell, yes.

Would it be painful beyond words if we tried and failed … and then we weren't comfortable being around each other ever again? Asked and answered, counselor.

Wouldn't we already be uncomfortable with each other after playing the roles of Emilio and Victoria? We'd gotten close while we were in New Jersey – physically closer than I ever thought we would get. The strangest thing was how comfortable it had felt.

But now what? Can we just go back to being friends after that? Would a fling take the edge off the sexual tension – and then we could go back to the way things were? Or maybe try a friends-with-benefits arrangement?

The only thing that seemed certain was that there was no easy solution. Either things would be awkward, and we would expend a lot of effort trying to keep our friendship the way it always had been. Or we wouldn't be able to handle the awkward, and we'd never see each other again. Or we'd try to have a relationship – or even a one-night stand – and it would end badly, messy, ugly … and we'd never see each other again. Or maybe – just maybe – we could figure out how this could work. But that was one hell of a long shot.

I asked myself one last question, a question that I'd asked myself even before my inner argument tonight: Was it worth the risk?

About an hour after we sat down in front of the TV, I had finished off my beer. After placing the empty bottle on the coffee table, I grabbed a blanket and leaned my head on his shoulder. I was thankful to be home and thankful that Eli was not pushing me to have a conversation I wasn't ready to have.

I don't remember falling asleep, but I'm not surprised that I didn't make it to the end of the movie. I had been exhausted for days.

* * *

A/N:

Two more chapters ... this fic will conclude about two weeks from now. I'll try to have a one-shot for you with Chapters 9 and 10.

Until next time …

~Jen

9 November 2019


	9. Chapter 9

DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

* * *

 **Chapter 9**

 **Thursday 25 June 2015**

We spent the next day sightseeing. He said he liked getting to see the city through my eyes. I think what he meant was being able to see it through the eyes of someone who lived here, rather than just seeing it as a tourist.

If I was being honest, I enjoyed seeing New York through his eyes. Almost anyone who lives here will tell you that after a while, you stop seeing certain things. It was good to be reminded that – to quote the musical _Hamilton_ – it's "the greatest city in the world."

One of the partners at the law firm had a friend who was an investor in the show. When he was given a block of tickets, he asked who at the firm enjoyed musicals and then drew names for the tickets.

"That's how I ended up seeing the show not long after it started its off-Broadway run at The Public Theater earlier this year," I said as I finished telling Eli the story. "It was amazing. You'd love it."

"I doubt very much that I would love any musical."

"You would love this one. It tells the beginnings of our country from a different viewpoint, through a different lens. Our Founding Fathers – who as we all know were white men, owners of land and people – are played by people of color. We also get to see some of the women who were involved. And the story is told through hip hop and rap." Taking a moment to look at his shocked face, I added, "It's not your average musical. And it's not the way American history is normally told."

"Then maybe we should go see it before I fly home."

"I wish we could, but it's sold out. There's no way to get tickets. Unless you want to pay a ridiculous amount." I paused. "Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned it."

"Maybe you can work on getting tickets … it would give me an excuse to come visit you again."

His words hung between us. He was opening the door of possibility. And he seemed to be waiting to see what my reaction would be.

Tilting my head, I smiled and said, "I'll see what I can do."

During the day, we shared a few intense moments – being pressed together on the subway, the way he held my hand so that we didn't get separated in a crowd, the kiss he placed on my forehead without thinking about it and then realized we weren't roleplaying anymore. We had gotten extremely comfortable being in each other's space. To anyone observing us, I'm sure it looked like we were a couple.

Later in the day, we stopped at a men's clothing store to pick out a jacket and tie for him. He had brought dress slacks and a couple of button-down shirts, but the restaurant we were going to was a jacket and tie kind of place. I had a little too much fun helping him shop, checking out the fit of the jackets he tried on, and choosing a tie that looked good against the warm tones of his skin. Yeah, I definitely had too much fun with that.

Then we went back to my apartment to get ready to go out to dinner. He seemed happy that he was getting this date night with me – dinner in a nice restaurant – but he wasn't happy that someone else had made the reservation and was picking up the tab.

"I'll let you pay next time." My comment was intended to reduce his displeasure and get him to focus on enjoying the evening. But he took my words at face value.

"The next time I visit you?" There was hope in his voice as he asked.

Still trying to keep things light, I shrugged and said, "Let's see how this first date goes. I haven't even decided if I'm gonna let you kiss me at the end of the evening."

He laughed at that, but then grabbed me and pulled me into his arms. "Not only are you gonna let me kiss you … baby, by the end of the evening, you're gonna beg me to kiss you."

"Is that so?"

"Tell me that any other guy has ever kissed you the way I do – the way Emilio did – and I'll take back my prediction that you'll beg me. I know we were playing roles … but I felt the way you reacted to me, to my touch. You weren't acting, V. Not all the time, anyway."

I wiggled my way out of his embrace. "I need to get into the shower."

As I turned toward the bathroom, he asked, "Was that an invitation?"

That provoked a laugh from me, but I did not answer his question.

I showered quickly and then moved my hairdryer and makeup to my bedroom so he could use the bathroom to get ready.

After his shower, he entered my bedroom – shirtless, I might add – to get his things from my closet. He had ironed his shirt earlier – I never realized how sexy a man could look doing domestic tasks – and then had hung it up in my closet. His new jacket was also hanging in there.

Even though I tried to ignore the way his muscles rippled as he put on the shirt, I found myself captivated. So captivated in fact, that he caught me looking.

With one eyebrow raised, he asked, "See something you like?"

Nervously, I said, "That color looks good on you." I was being honest. It did.

Walking toward me, he laughed as he buttoned up his shirt. "You ever gonna tell me about those dreams you've been having?"

I watched as he tucked in his shirt. Was it bad that I wanted to help him with that task?

"V. My eyes are up here." Once he had my attention, he said, "Now, about those dreams. I know for damn sure that one of them was about me. And from the sounds you were making, I have a pretty good idea what was happening. But what about the night before that?"

He stood behind me as I looked in the mirror applying my makeup. I avoided his eyes, but I could feel the weight of his gaze.

Leaning toward my ear, he whispered, "It's alright. Take your time. I've got all night."

My eyes met his, and the heat of the moment from the first dream hit me again. The moment we had stood nose to nose in our underwear as his thumb stroked my lip. He had been giving me the same look that he had in his eyes right now.

I nervously played with the makeup brush in my hand and then rearranged items on top of my dresser. "It's embarrassing."

"Go on."

Finally, without looking at him, I said, "We were playing poker."

"How is that embarrassing?"

"Strip poker."

I didn't need to look at him to know he was smiling as he asked, "Who was winning?"

"I was. At first."

"And then?"

"I think you can guess."

"How far did the game get?"

"I'll tell you … if you'll move away from me."

He took a seat at the foot of the mattress and waited for me to talk. I explained the basics: that we had both been in our underwear, that he had helped me when I got my arm stuck, that he had brushed his thumb along my bottom lip. And I told him what he had said. I just skipped the part about pulling me down to my knees in front of him.

"That's why you were uncomfortable that day. When you brought my lunch to the shop. And why you got freaked out that night at the bar."

I couldn't look at him or find a response.

"V, look at me." He waited until I brought my eyes to meet his. "You should have just told me."

Tell him what exactly? That the dream had gotten me so aroused that it woke me up out of a sound sleep? That the dreams had me considering all sorts of things I shouldn't be considering?

But none of that came out of my mouth. I just nodded.

He walked toward me, placed a hand on the side of my face, and said, "I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable." Then he kissed my forehead.

After he left the room, I finished getting ready.

[

We were quiet for most of the cab ride to the restaurant. When we arrived, Eli gave my name to the hostess, and even though we were a few minutes early, we were seated immediately.

The quiet continued as we studied the menu, considering what to order. Looking at the prices, I knew that the gift certificate would cover both our dinners, plus a bottle of wine and dessert if we wanted it. After we ordered, he sat back in his seat and looked at me. More precisely, he was watching me, studying me. Like he was trying to figure something out.

We had been chatting most of the day, but it seemed that Eli still had some things to say and some questions to ask.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "Something on your mind?"

"Tell me about this guy you've been seeing."

"Why?"

"Want to know a little about my competition. And if you're gonna pick him over me, I want to be sure he's good enough for you."

"Sometimes you can be an idiot, you know that."

"What?!"

"Oh, you heard me." I took a sip of water and then began to reply. "After Piz, I didn't date anyone for a long time. Had no interest in dating."

"I know this part, V."

"Still didn't have any interest … until this guy showed up. Charming, funny, kind. And holy hell, can the man kiss."

Eli was clearly uncomfortable. He even groaned.

"Did I mention that he's seriously hot?"

"Not sure I want to hear those kinds of details, V. Just tell me this: Does he treat you well?"

I tilted my head and pretended to consider my answer. "Yes, if someone asked me, I would have to say that you treat me very well."

He sat forward. "What did you just say?"

"I think you heard me."

"I think I need to hear you say it again. Just to be sure I didn't misunderstand you."

"I did start spending time with someone recently. You."

"I'm the one you were talking about when you were turning Smitty down?"

Looking him straight in the eye, I said nothing. I just nodded.

"Why didn't you just tell me that?"

"Because I'm an idiot too?" I shrugged. "I don't know – I guess I wanted to figure out how I felt before I got your hopes up."

"Have you figured it out yet?"

"Still puzzling my way through it."

"Anything I can do to speed up the process?"

[

We were quiet most of the way home from the restaurant. I had been too full for dessert when the waiter asked, but I was glad I had ordered something to bring home. As I walked into the kitchen, I said, "I'm going to make some tea. Do you want anything?"

"You." He came up behind me and placed his hands on the counter on either side of me. He placed a kiss just behind my ear and then whispered, "I'm done pretending. You and I both want this."

As his hands and mouth found my most sensitive places, I realized a few things. (1) He had been paying close attention to my reactions while we were roleplaying – he knew where all of those places were. (2) He had been right. No other guy made me feel like this. And I was about to beg him to kiss me – on the mouth instead of trailing featherlight kisses on my neck, shoulders, and upper back. (3) He had not been acting the entire time. Take away the jealous and controlling aspects, this moment felt like the moments I had shared with him during this case. The way he had touched me had been real. A real, honest expression of how he felt about me.

I still couldn't make sense of my feelings though. "Eli … if we …" A moan escaped from my throat. "It would change everything."

He stopped kissing my neck long enough to turn me around and look me in the eye. His tone was completely serious as he said, "I agree. But would that be so bad?"

* * *

A/N:

One more chapter. And I do believe it's the chapter you've all been waiting for.

Until next time …

~Jen

15 November 2019


	10. Chapter 10

DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

Got a busy week ahead of me ... decided to post early so I didn't forget later in the week. Enjoy!

[

Picks up the scene/conversation from the end of Chapter 9:

 **Thursday 25 June 2015 – after dinner, back at Veronica's apartment**

"Eli … if we …" A moan escaped from my throat. "It would change everything."

He stopped kissing my neck long enough to turn me around and look me in the eye. His tone was completely serious as he said, "I agree. But would that be so bad?"

* * *

 **Chapter 10**

"Eli …" I considered my answer. How could I boil down all the swirling thoughts in my head? I couldn't, but I could tell him my primary concern. "I wouldn't feel right about having a one-night stand or … a fling with you."

"Good. That's not what I want."

"What do you want?"

"I want you. I want a future with you."

"What are you saying? Are you asking …?"

"It's a little soon for that. But yes, I'm talking about building a life with you."

"How would we do that with me here and you in Neptune? Your life, your business, your daughter … are all there. But I can't imagine going back there."

"Seriously?! You want to do this now?! You want a plan before we—"

"I can't start something without having an idea of—"

"I've got news for you … we already started something." He kissed me, testing the waters to see if we were finished with the talking portion of the evening. When I gently pushed him away, he said, "Fine. How's this: We talk as often as possible. I come here … I don't know, maybe once a month."

"And then what?"

He leaned against the counter next to me and took my hand in his, kissing the back of it. By the look on his face, it seemed that he was taking my question seriously. Finally, he said, "I told you that I've been planning to expand, open another location. My top choice is San Diego. I could move there to run the new shop. I'd be close enough to Neptune for Valentina to see family." Turning his head toward me, he asked, "Would San Diego work for you?"

I was stunned. The man actually had a plan. This thing between us might have a chance; we might have a chance … at a future together. "I can't guarantee that I could get a job there after graduation. But yeah … that might work." Looking down at our intertwined fingers, I asked softly, "You'd really come here every month? Can you afford to do that?"

"I don't think I can afford not to." He looked into my eyes as he brought my hand to his lips again. "Everything settled?"

I had no words, but I managed to make sound: "Mm-hmm."

He reached behind me to unzip the back of my dress. I turned to give him better access. He slid the top of my dress over my shoulders and allowed it to slide down to the floor, where it pooled at my feet. I turned to face him, and he began to trace the strap of my bra just as he had done in my dream. Not that I minded standing before him exposed in this way – in a bra, panties, and high heels – but I wanted to see him and touch him too. As I started to unbutton the top of his shirt, he got to work on the buttons of the cuffs. We both moved slowly, maintaining eye contact. When the last button had been freed from its hole, I pushed his shirt past his shoulders and let my fingers ghost down his arms. He shivered under my touch. I liked the feeling of having power over him. So when he reached for his belt, I stopped him.

"I was told years ago about your legendary status. Time to find out for myself."

As I began to unbuckle his belt, he said, "That mouth of yours …"

A crooked smile played on my lips as I thought about the strip poker dream and the things he had said to me on our last day of roleplaying. "I'm assuming you'd like me to … oh how did you say that? … something like 'put my sweet mouth to good use.'"

He groaned. "Yes, but not yet."

By now, his pants were off, and we were standing nose to nose in the same state of undress as we had been in my dream. His hands were familiarizing themselves with my bare skin as his eyes took me in. It was like time was moving at half speed. I was enjoying hovering in this moment, but … damn, if he didn't pick up the pace soon, I would do it for him.

He must have sensed my impatience, because he laughed and said, "Be patient, Veronica. I've waited a long time for this. And there is no way in hell I'm gonna rush this."

Lifting me up, he set me on the counter, and I wrapped my legs around him. For several minutes, we kissed and caressed every part of each other that we could reach. I must have finally hit an overly sensitive spot on his neck, because he growled and then suddenly lifted me off the counter.

Then he headed down the hallway to my bedroom. Finally.

At the foot of my bed, he put his hands under my armpits and lifted me away from himself, tossing me onto the mattress. Then he lifted my left foot – still wearing my heels – and began kissing from my ankle to my knee. Raising my leg straight up, he kissed the back of my knee and then proceeded the length of my leg until he reached my panties. After he bent my knees, he turned his attention where it was needed and wanted.

He blew out his breath over the damp spot on my panties. When I shivered, he laughed. When I grabbed onto his head in an attempt to encourage him to get on with it, he again said, "Be patient."

After spending a significant amount of time using his hand and mouth over the fabric, he finally pulled the panties down my legs – at an excruciatingly slow pace. Then, he went to work in earnest, bringing me to orgasm with his mouth.

He stood up and gazed down on me – both admiring my body and the dazed, sated look he was responsible for. Still a little delirious, I sat up and said, "My turn."

Scooting myself to sit on the edge of the mattress, I pulled on his hips to bring him toward me. Looking up into his eyes, I slid his boxer briefs down his thighs. After the attention he had lavished on me, I wanted to return the favor. After all, trading favors was the basis of our relationship, right?

The sounds he made, the way he held my head firmly – yet gently – in his hands. I think I enjoyed it almost as much as he did. But just when I thought he was at the point of release, he pulled my head away from him and said, "Enough." Then he hurried over to his suitcase to get a condom.

Lying back on the bedspread, I watched as he rolled the condom on. Then he glanced up at me with a hungry look in his eyes. He moved back toward me, grabbed my legs, and put my feet – high heels and all – up on his shoulders. Then he took hold of my hips and pulled me toward him.

It took my breath away when he entered me. It might have been the angle, but he seemed to fill me in a way I had never experienced. It didn't take long before he had brought me to my second orgasm of the night.

After he disposed of the condom, he returned to me and removed my heels and bra. Then he pulled back the blanket, and we got under the sheet.

He drew circles on my belly with his finger. But he didn't seem to have anything to say though.

I figured we would drift off to sleep and do any necessary talking in the morning. But when I said, "That was quite a way to end the night," he said, "Wrong. Quite a way to start the night."

"What?"

"If you think I'm letting you go to sleep, you are dead wrong. I plan on having you scream my name 'til the sun comes up."

"You're serious?"

"Can't have you screaming more in a dream about me than in real life," he teased.

Blushing, I said, "I told you, I was dreaming about _Emilio_."

"Whatever. Still can't have that. Your best sex should be happening during waking hours … with me."

We cuddled for a while more. I turned his words – now, earlier, and in the past several days – over in my head. He was staking his claim to me, to my body. Possessive, but not in the same controlling way Emilio would have been. But right now, if someone asked me, I would have to admit that this felt right, felt like home. It felt like I was his, and I couldn't pinpoint when it had happened. It felt like it had always been this way.

Finally, he let me go out to the kitchen to get my dessert. I brought it back to bed. He was sitting up against the headboard with his legs stretched out. It reminded me of that night before we left for New Jersey, when he had told me about Jade and I had told him about my mom.

He pulled me onto the bed and lifted me over him so that I was sitting in his lap, straddling him. We fed each other dessert, and we kissed. The kissing eventually led to more sex. Which led to even more sex.

The sky was beautiful as the sun rose.

[

[

 **Friday 26 June 2015 … & Saturday 27 June 2015**

For the next 48 hours, we left my bed only when it was absolutely necessary. And we rarely put on any clothing.

[

[

 **Sunday 28 June 2015**

Even when he was getting ready to leave for the airport on Sunday, he wanted me to stay in the bed. He said he wanted that to be the last thing he saw. He seemed to like my appearance – well-fucked, bed hair, not a stitch of clothing. He seemed proud of himself.

When I insisted on walking him to the door, I wrapped the sheet around me.

By the time he left, he had talked me into flying home for Christmas and for a quick visit in August before classes started. He wanted me to meet his daughter, and I decided that I should tell my dad about us face to face. Eli had purchased my plane tickets for those trips before he left. As much as those days in my apartment seemed like a fantasy, the airline confirmation emails were tangible evidence to the contrary.

This had gotten real. Fast.

He texted from the cab: _miss you already._

I had to agree. I had curled up in bed, surrounded by linens that still smelled like him, like us. When I finally got up, I noticed that he had forgotten his dress shirt on the chair. Immediately, I made the decision to NOT wash it – or the pillowcase he had slept on.

[

[

[

As he was packing his suitcase, I had joked: "Out of sight, out of mind. You'll get back home, and some gorgeous California girl will work into your shop … and you'll forget all about me."

He had moved over to me so fast that it startled me. "Not true. And not something to joke about." After kissing me senseless, he said, "Woman, your face is burned into my memory. And your name has been tattooed on my heart for years. Now that I know how you taste … how you feel underneath me … how you look after I make you come … There is no way – let me repeat – no way I could ever notice another woman. Get it through that head of yours: You're mine. And you own me. End of story."

In the days after he left, I asked myself how we had gotten to this point.

A long time ago, we used to trade favors. But I hadn't thought of him for years. Until that phone call. Lately, I couldn't think of anything else.

 **THE END**

* * *

A/N:

I'm marking this fic as **complete**. But you never know … At some point, I might come back to fill in the year leading up to the Neptune High reunion. Mostly so I can have Logan say his line to Veronica this way: "I didn't know you and Weevil were a thing." But also because I have a few scenes in my head … Eli visiting her in NYC … Veronica meeting Valentina … them getting settled into a new life in San Diego about the time of the reunion, etc. (If I decide to do that, I will add chapters to this existing fic.)

Thanks to everyone who "pestered" me for more than a year to get back to this! Hope it lived up to your expectations. I'd love to hear your thoughts.

New one-shot ( **There to Rescue Her** , set pre-series) went up at the same time as this chapter.

Now that this is finished, I will turn my attention back to **Commence (Along the Road – Part 3).** I plan to update that fic by late December, and I'll try to find time to post a few one-shots. After all, the holidays are a time for gifts and surprises.

Until next time …

~Jen

19 November 2019


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